


One More Mountain Left To Climb

by legolastariel



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst and Feels, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bottom Daryl Dixon, Cuddling & Snuggling, Developing Friendship, Developing Relationship, Emotional Baggage, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pining, Repeat: Happy Ending!, Sleeping Together, Strangers to Friends, Top Rick Grimes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-05
Updated: 2017-11-21
Packaged: 2019-01-09 01:30:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 48,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12266175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/legolastariel/pseuds/legolastariel
Summary: On a dark deserted highway, Daryl Dixon is driving through the pouring rain, fast, while his eyes flick nervously to the rearview mirror time and again. Is he being followed? He has to get away from here, had best leave the state quickly and never come back. Daryl is running.A mile ahead Rick Grimes stumbles through the woods, alone, drunk and not paying attention to where he is going at all. He has to get away from it all, needs some time to work things out. Rick is running, too.Their paths, and their fates, cross when they run into each other – literally – and with an injured and unconscious stranger lying in front of his car, Daryl makes a fateful decision.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to my beta staceykc, who's been doing (and still does) a marvellous job.  
> The story is completely written and will be updated every other day.
> 
> As always, I love hearing from you wonderful people! Comments and kudos are highly appreciated and I hope you'll enjoy this.

**_One more mountain left to climb_ **

****

         “Fuck!”

Slamming his hands onto the steering wheel, Daryl Dixon gave vent to his anger and frustration by cursing fiercely for the umpteenth time. It didn’t help.  
He stepped onto the gas pedal and the car accelerated and shot into the darkness beyond the windshield, although the wipers were barely able to fight off the steady curtain of water that poured from the heavy low clouds. 

He didn’t care that he was barely able to see where he was going, didn’t care that the aquaplaning made the car slide and swerve now and then. He just wanted to cover as many miles as possible before fatigue and the lack of gas forced him to stop. And stop was the last thing he wanted to do. He had to go on and on and on. As usual. As so many times before. For a moment he wondered if it would always be that way. 

Daryl pushed a strand of his long bangs out of his narrow, blue eyes and gritted his teeth. The knots in his stomach were painful and his heart was beating frantically as the recollection of what had happened caused a new rush of adrenaline. 

         “Fuck!” he yelled again into the stillness of the car’s interior. “Sonuvabitch!” 

He couldn’t even tell whether he was referring to _him_ or talking to himself. It didn’t matter. Nobody heard him anyway. Nobody ever had. 

The only response was the tapping sound of raindrops on the roof, the humming of the wheels on the wet pavement, the roaring engine and the repeated _flap-flap_ of the tirelessly struggling wipers.   
With an angry movement he switched the radio on and instantly turned the volume up when _Bon Jovi’s_ voice tore through the silence.

_ Shot through the heart _  
__ _And you're to blame_  
_You give love a bad name_   
_I play my part and you play your game_  
_You give love a bad name_

Daryl gave a derisive snort, while a humorless smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.   
         “Yeah, tell me ‘bout it, Jon”, he muttered.  
He cast a glance into the rearview mirror, almost expecting, dreading, to see headlights behind him in fierce pursuit. But the empty road, lined by a dark wall of trees to either side, stretched out into the impenetrable blackness and then disappeared beyond the soft glow of his taillights. One of them was broken. 

Figures! Just what he needed – a reason for any overeager cop to stop him, hold him up, delay his flight. He had to have that fucking light repaired asap to avoid a closer encounter with a highway patrol. He didn’t want any questions. Couldn’t have anyone, especially the cops, take notice of him and his whereabouts. He had to stay below the radar, be invisible and inaudible, become the phantom he’d been all his life and try to leave the state as quickly as possible. Again. 

         “If I had a buck for each time I crossed a fuckin’ state line …”, he trailed off with a deep, frustrated sigh. 

_ If. _ Woulda. Coulda. Shoulda. He didn’t _have_ a buck for each time he crossed a state line. In fact, he didn’t have a single buck at all, no place to go, no one to help him. All he had were the clothes on his back, this rusty old tin can, that barely deserved to be called a car, and an irritating dull ache in the center of his chest.

Keeping one hand on the wheel, the other one started rummaging in the glove compartment for a pack of cigarettes he knew was there. Somewhere. When he couldn’t find it he leaned over further to reach into the far corner and almost had the car go off the road.  
Cursing once more he sat up and steered it back into the lane, deciding to ignore the craving for a smoke in favor of chewing gum. He had bought a pack just that morning in the intent to smoke less. But that had been _before_ the day had taken a turn for the worse, had become nothing short of frustrating and most definitely one of those days that called for a cigarette. Or two. Or three.  
Later. He wouldn’t stop. Had to keep on driving for a while longer. He needed to get away from it all, again. Had to start over, someplace else, again. He could do it. Had done it countless times before and this time was no different than all the others. Right?

Daryl rubbed a hand over his stinging eyes and sighed once more. 

Was this ever going to end? Would it always be like this till the day he died? And when had he even started to ask these questions? 

He stared out into the depressing blackness of the night, where the headlights of his car were the only source of light, and felt the darkness seep into his soul like a drop of black ink would seep into a piece of cloth. It spread, invaded every fibre of his being, numbed his senses and made his heart feel as heavy and cold as a piece of lead. 

Tired. He was so immensely tired. Not just physically, but mentally and emotionally. Tired. He had been in this treadmill for so long, always in motion, never stopping, going on and on and on with no rest, no peace, never getting a break. – And never going anywhere, no matter what he did and where he turned.   
His entire life was going around in circles – an endless, exhausting repetition of old mistakes that led into one cul-de-sac after the other. All he wanted was _out_ , but he had lost his way a long time ago. Maybe he had reached the crossroads and ignored them too many times and now it was too late to turn around. Maybe as of now there were no options anymore and the road before him just led straight into the darkness with no exits, no hope, no light – just like this highway.   
He would have found it very appropriate if _Highway to Hell_ had been on the radio now and he even liked that song, but of course no one did him the favor of playing it now. Favors or things going as planned – that was a myth. Never happened to him before and never would. 

The dull ache from before derailed his train of thought and gritting his teeth, Daryl peeked into the rearview mirror once again.   
What irritated him wasn’t even the pain in this chest that felt as though the cold hand of fate had gotten a tight grip on his heart and squeezed mercilessly. That he had gotten used to a long time ago.   
The thing he would never get used to, although that too had happened more times than he could count, was the familiar throbbing pain right underneath his left eye where a furiously balled fist had connected with his cheekbone. A buck for each time that shit had happened in addition to the crossing-a-state line-bucks and he could have retired to live a peaceful, easy life. Unfortunately taking _that shit_ wasn’t rewarded.

Daryl turned the rearview mirror his way and tried to see his reflection by the faint glow of the dashboard. He could only vaguely make out his face, but the angry discoloration of the skin over his cheekbone was visible even in the dim light and felt sensitive to his touch, when he let his fingers trace it gently now. 

          “Guess ya ain’t gonna win no beauty contest for a while there, Dixon”, he told his mirror image with a derisive snort. 

It didn’t even appear odd to him anymore that he was talking to himself. It had become a habit and he found his own voice soothing in a way he couldn’t explain. It wasn’t so much the sound of his deep, raspy baritone – rather the familiarity of it. 

He had always been the one person he could talk to, the one who’d understand, the one who’d listen at all, and thus his own voice was the only one that had been around for a longer period at a time. Wasn’t his fault after all that the rest of the world couldn’t care less about Daryl Dixon, so he had to be his own best friend, his confidant, his brother. Now all he had to learn was to love himself, too. That he hadn’t accomplished yet. 

 

A movement and something caught in the beam of the headlights drew his attention and with a start had him focusing on the road again. The next second his heart just stopped.  
Rumor had it that things played out in slow motion for a moment when pure shock hit a person and adrenaline shot through the body as though they’d been struck by lightning. It hurt alright as though electricity was permeating throughout every nerve, had Daryl’s hair stand on end and left his fingers and toes with a tingly sensation. But the slow motion crap was made up by Hollywood, no doubt.   
If a human figure suddenly comes stumbling out of the woods onto the road and straight in front of your car, nothing slows down. On the contrary. A myriad of things seem to be happening in the same second, leaving one single chaos behind as thoughts and emotions rush through like a tornado. 

Daryl yanked the steering wheel around, while his own scream echoed in his ears and mixed with the squealing sound of the tires and the creaking protest of the old shock-absorbers. There was a sickening thud somewhere to the front of the car, right before the sudden change of direction on the wet pavement sent the car out of control and had it swerve and slide onto the other side of the road. His terrified “Shit!!” was the last word, the last air supply to leave his lungs, before Daryl’s breath got stuck in his throat along with his frantically beating heart. 

It was over as quickly as it had occurred. The car had made a U-turn and had come to a halt only few inches before the dark wall of trees that stood like a row of silent, unmoving observers on the other side of the road. The wipers still fought their battle against the pouring rain, their quickened flapping sound in sync with the panicky beating of Daryl’s heart. His pupils were dilated so wide that his eyes appeared almost black as he stared out into the night now, out into the raging storm, out onto the lone, unmoving figure that lay on the road face down.

It was a man. About Daryl’s age, give or take a few. Daryl could make out long, lean legs that stuck in torn blue jeans and ended in a pair of worn cowboy boots. The rest of the slim body was wrapped in a sand-colored rainjacket, but the hood had slipped back and revealed a shock of wet and tousled curls, of which one had fallen into the man’s forehead. His forehead that was covered with blood, while a steady rivulet of the red liquid seeped from a wound at the man’s hairline and trickled over his deadly pale face. 

Daryl didn’t hear the music from his car’s radio any longer, or the sound of the engine and the tapping of raindrops on the roof. It was all drowned out as his blood was swooshing painfully loud in his ears, and he had to remind himself to breathe when the burning sensation in his lungs grew painful. 

No! This just couldn’t be happening. Not now. Not ever.   
Where was that damn highway patrol to stop you for a broken taillight when you needed it? If these unreliable cops had been there to pull him over, to delay him for just a little while, this accident wouldn’t have happened. And if that annoying rain had stopped for just one minute, he may have been able to go slightly faster and thus would long since have passed this spot before that idiot had to stumble onto the road. If. _If._ Why was Fate such a fucking bitch?   
What were the odds of this happening? He hadn’t seen another living soul in about an hour – no other car had been behind him and there’d been no oncoming traffic. No one. In a storm like this he had figured to be the only one stupid enough to risk driving through a wooded area. But apparently madness knew no limits and this guy had to pick this of all days to go for a hike.   
What were the damn odds for the two of them to meet? For that dude to pick that one second of the 86,400 in a day to step out onto the road and get hit by the only car to pass through here probably all night? How could he possibly not see the headlights or hear the engine noise? Was he blind or deaf or just plain stupid? Or worse – suicidal? Did he do that on purpose?

         “Fuckin’ asshole!” Daryl growled, while he ran a hand through his hair. “The hell ya think yer doin’, man? Watch where ya goin’, ya stupid sonuvabitch. ‘n if ya wanna opt out, just go ‘n’ play pinata in one a’ ‘em trees, but leave me the fuck outta yer problems! Got enough a’ ma own.”

With a frustrated yell he slammed both hands onto the steering wheel.

         “Ya can’t make yerself another one a’ ma damn problems! Ya got no right!! Ain’t yer fuckin’ call!”

Daryl pulled in a couple of deep breaths to regain his composure, but the frantic racing of his heart wouldn’t subside. The stranger out there still wasn’t moving and over the distance Daryl was unable to tell if he was breathing, if he was still alive at all. 

         _“Get out! Go check on him!”_

Daryl cringed. Damn. The last thing he needed right now, next to being involved in an accident, was the little voice in the back of his mind speaking up. It had never done him any good, not once.   
It used to pop up in the most unlikely places and the most inconvenient times, would give all the damn good advice that in most cases meant _‘doing the right thing’._ Right for whom? Helping others, being _nice_ , turning the other cheek – what was in it for him? Who ever helped him in return? Who was being nice to a Dixon? And what good was turning the other cheek for anyway? It just meant a black eye on that side as well.   
Why he still listened to that voice at all was beyond him. Maybe because there was _the other one_ , the darker one, the one that sounded too much like his old man. The one that would tell him to look the other way, think of himself first, to give a damn about _‘doing the right thing_ ’ and just take what he needed and do as he goddamn pleased. 

The hand that had already rested on the handle to open the door, froze. 

Listening to the voice of reason had never kept Daryl out of trouble. Hadn’t made his life any better or meant more money in his pocket or food in his stomach. So why didn’t the jackass just shut up already?

         _“Get outta here, ya damn idiot! Nobody saw ya, there ain’t no witnesses, nobody would know. Ya can’t get involved. Leave!”_

He hated to listen to _the other one._ Hated to be reminded of his father, of the old bastard who hadn’t done right by him once, who had put scars on both his body and his soul that would never heal and mar him forever. Who had told him the day Daryl gave him the finger and left for good, that he would regret it, if he walked out the door.   
It had been hell of a life back in the old shithole that Daryl had to call ‘ _home_ ’ for the first sixteen years of his life, so he had laughed in his father’s face before he had slammed said door shut behind himself.   
Not in his wildest dreams had he ever imagined that the old fart would be right in the end. He _had_ regretted to have left, more than once, and he still did. It may have been a shithole, but still it had been _home,_ the only home he’d ever known, the only place he ever felt as though he belonged. However bad life was, it could always take a turn for the worse – that was something Daryl had learned in many painful lessons. 

Maybe it was time he started listening to that darker voice, much that he hated it. Maybe _dark_ was in his blood.

He pressed his lips together to a thin line and stared at the bleeding, soaking wet form of the unknown man until he felt as though that picture was slowly burning itself into his memory, leaving a crystal clear imprint that he would never be able to shed again. 

Slowly, inch by inch, Daryl pulled his hand back from the door handle and placed it back onto the steering wheel. He sat frozen for a moment, the little wheels in his head turning and threatening to go into overdrive. He started to tremble.  
A smoke! He needed a smoke. Right now! Hectically he rummaged through the glove compartment once again and this time found the pack of cigarettes he’d been looking for earlier. It took him a couple of futile attempts to spark the lighter and when he finally held the small flame to the tip of the cigarette between his lips, he dragged on it almost desperately, the way a drowning man would inhale lifesaving oxygen. 

He exhaled the smoke with an audible puff, still staring motionless through the windshield at the tragedy beyond. Then he took another drag and forced his foot into motion, gently pushing the gas pedal until the car started moving. He turned it back around into its original direction, and stopped. The stop lights emitted a soft red glow like an purgatorial fire and through the mirror of the passenger side Daryl looked at the stranger by the roadside one more time. 

         _“You can’t do that!”_  
          
         _“Nah, on the contrary – ya can ‘n’ ya gotta! Ain’t yer problem. Move!”_

His foot stepped onto the pedal and the car accelerated, slowly at first, but soon faster and faster as though putting distance between himself and the poor victim he left behind to an unknown fate could make Daryl forget, could make it all undone.   
Way faster than he had expected the unknown man faded from his sight and blended in with the blackness behind him only moments later, as though he wasn’t really there, as though all this had just been a bad dream. 

Daryl focused on the road ahead and kept on driving. _Ahead_ was where he needed to go, not back. Never back. Once he had left, he had never gone back. Not once. And he wouldn’t start now. 

He turned the radio off and the stillness that followed matched the one inside of him. The little voice of reason had fallen quiet, as though it didn’t deem Daryl worthy of being talked to any longer. And deep down inside the man couldn’t help but agree. 

His hands clutched the wheel in a vise-like grip till his knuckles turned white, but he kept on driving in silence. He didn’t say a word. Didn’t feel like talking to himself, either.  

 

\- TBC -


	2. Chapter 2

The silence was deafening. Not even the tapping sound of the raindrops on the roof or the protesting wipers were able to drive the deep, depressing stillness inside of Daryl away.

That little voice in the back of his mind had irritated him more often than not and years ago he had started to picture a person whose appearance would match it.

If the dark, selfish, inconsiderate _other one_ sounded achingly like his father – may his soul rot in hell – then the one trying to keep him on the _right_ track surely belonged to a cheerful, infinitely positive and optimistic blonde young girl with big blue, innocent eyes.

How many times had he wished for that bitch to just shut up and leave him the hell alone. Now that she had, he missed her badly.

          _“Stop thinkin’ ‘bout it, man. That dude ain’t yer problem no more.”_

Daryl swallowed thickly against a lump in his throat. The knots in his stomach were painful and his heart wouldn’t stop its frantic beating. He had hoped with distance and each passing minute it would get easier, that the darkness would cover his sins and somehow put them right. ‘Out of sight, out of mind’ they say, but _they_ apparently didn’t have a fucking clue. It wasn’t that easy. Never.

With a frustrated snort Daryl turned the radio back on, hoping another voice than his old man’s would be able to distract him until he had gone far enough. Too far for turning back to still make sense. For a moment he wondered if this planet was even big enough to cover the number of miles necessary to justify turning his back on an injured and helpless man.

The radio came to life and instantly the sound of a keyboard, an electric guitar and drums filled the small interior of the car. A dark rhythm and an eerie timbre that was familiar. Too familiar. He knew that song and it hit him like a punch to the guts. Couldn’t be …

 

 _In and out of darkness, in and out of sleep_  
_Trying to keep my hands upon the wheel_  
_Never saw the corner in the driving rain_  
_I never saw her step into the street_

 

The strong, melodic voice seemed to scream in Daryl’s ears although he hadn’t turned the volume up too high and his throat constricted more and more with every single word.

          _“Turn it off!”_

He didn’t move a muscle.

Could this be a coincidence? Of all the songs in the world – _that_ one? Now? Apparently the blonde girl had been replaced by Phil Collins and the man knew no mercy.

 

_I can never understand what went through my mind_  
_I didn’t stop to see what I had done_  
_I had to keep on driving deep into the night_  
_The miles between would somehow put it right_

“Oh, my God”, Daryl gasped.

_“Just turn it the fuck off, man!”_

He couldn’t. Somehow he knew that he had to hear this. It was a sign. Turning his back on earthly matters was one thing, but there was no turning his back on a heavenly sign. He wasn’t a religious person, wasn’t even sure that he believed in any higher powers, but in case they existed he had best not piss them off. The world was against him already, so he didn’t need any more opponents. On the contrary.

A little shove into the right direction, a helping hand, that would be nice for a change. And if those higher powers existed, maybe this just now was his chance to prove that he was worth their attention.

The foot that pushed the gas pedal lost all its strength suddenly and the car went slower and slower.

 

 _All my life you lie silently there_  
_All my life in a world so unfair_  
_All my life and only I'll know why_  
_And it will live inside of me_  
_I will never be free_

Daryl’s hands started to shake. What the hell had he done? What kind of person would just leave like this? Despite his best intentions to turn into a better man than his pa had ever been, he had become just like him after all.

_“Stop pissing yer pants already, ya pussy. That dude’s prob’ly dead anyway. Ain’t nothin’ ya can do ‘bout it. No sense in turnin’ back.”_

“Shut up!” Daryl pressed out between clenched teeth. “Just shut the fuck up already.”

Might just as well be true. Maybe that man was dead and he’d come too late, but he just left him lying there like some roadkill or a piece of trash. Whoever that guy was – he had a name, a story, maybe a family. There may be a worried wife and a bunch of little ones waiting at home somewhere, hoping and praying that he’d be back soon, while he was lying on a dark, wet, cold highway.

Because Daryl hadn’t paid attention, had been too wrapped up in his own problems, too lost in his own shitty life and then on top of it all, had tossed his humanity overboard.

Yes, it was an accident. He hadn’t _meant_ to do it and _if_ that man was gone, true, going back wouldn’t make a difference.

But he could just as well still be alive. What if he died because no one helped him in time? What if another tired and distracted driver was approaching that spot in this very minute and wouldn’t see him there, lying in the street?

Daryl felt bile rise in this throat. He hadn’t even bothered to pull the victim off the road. Dear God, someone else might run him over and end a life that could have been saved – if he, Daryl, hadn’t just left, hadn’t been such a coward.

          _“Ain’t nobody ever gonna know that ya …”_

 _“I_ know.”

His own voice sounded alien to him, hoarse, strained, _guilty._

 

 _All my life I'll be haunted by_  
_All my life just one moment in time_  
_All my life until the day I die_  
_And it will live inside of me_  
_I will never be free all my life_

“Fuck!!”

If he had a buck for each time he had used that word … Ah, screw that.

Daryl hit the brakes and swung the car around, the sudden change of direction once more having it swerve, before he regained control and pushed the gas pedal forcefully.

          _“Much better, Daryl Dixon.”_

Gosh, she was back. Despite himself a smile tugged on Daryl’s lips while the car flew over the wet blacktop in a race against time – and fate.

 

“Where are you?” Daryl muttered, while his eyes searched the roadside as he passed.

It had been rather easy _losing_ that poor soul out there, but finding him now sure was a challenge. Every part of the road, every tree, every rock – it all looked the same, especially at night, and there was no telling how far Daryl had already gone before his bad conscience had caught up with him. He had been too wrapped up in his guilt-ridden thoughts to pay attention. And even if he had – there were no street signs, no landmarks, nothing. He could have already passed the man, could end up driving back and forth for ages without finding him.

His fingers tapped on the steering wheel nervously.

He had no time for this, couldn’t just cruise up and down this damn highway till kingdom come – he had to leave, before …

In that moment the beam of his headlights reflected off a sand-colored jacket and a face as white as a sheet and Daryl let out his breath in a relieved sigh.

Once more he parked the car a few feet away from the victim and the headlights illuminated the site enough for him to get a good look at the misfortunate man. He hadn’t moved an inch since Daryl had left him. There was no indication that he was still alive.

The realization that he might have killed someone hit Daryl with full force in that moment and he swallowed thickly. He might have ended a life that from the looks of it had only lasted about as long as his own, which was thirty-seven years now. And maybe, unlike Daryl, that guy had loved his life, had been looking forward to another round about forty years on this planet – and Daryl had taken them away from him.

What was he gonna do?

          _“How about checking on him already?”_

“Yeah, yeah, get outta ma hair”, he muttered to himself, while he pulled the hood of his jacket over his head and reached for the door handle.

God, he was hearing voices and talked to himself. Maybe he could plead insanity when they sued him for homicide?

Cautiously he approached the still form as though he was nearing a poisonous snake. For a moment he just stood motionless next to the man and stared down on him, hoping to see a sign of life so the dreadful feeling of standing next to a corpse would dissolve. Pulling in a deep breath he crouched down after a couple more fearful heartbeats and reached out a shaky hand.

Slowly and gently he grabbed the man’s shoulder and turned him onto his back. The head rolled to the side and exposed the head wound that was still bleeding relentlessly, causing a thin rivulet of blood to run over the man’s forehead and nose from where it dripped onto the cold, hard floor.

The still pouring rain fell onto the deadly pale features of the stranger as though buckets of water were being emptied over him and instinctively Daryl leaned over him to shield him from the elements. He didn’t even feel the moisture finding its way through the fabric of his own clothes and soaking him to the bone in mere moments.

It didn’t matter. He wasn’t injured, he was conscious and he hadn’t been lying in the cold for a good while yet. If anyone here was likely to catch pneumonia, it was this dude – and Daryl hoped to God that the chance of him catching pneumonia was even still given. I would mean he was alive.

Hesitatingly Daryl placed the tips of his fingers to the man’s neck and searched for a pulse there, while his own was racing like mad once again. For a moment a cold hand seemed to choke him when he couldn’t find a heartbeat.

“No, no, _no!_ C’mon …”

The next moment he noticed that he was searching in the wrong spot. When he found the carotid, he instantly felt the rhythmic tapping against his fingers and with a relieved sigh Daryl let out his breath. He leant down and turned his cheek to the man’s face, hoping to feel his breath and when they were only inches apart an odd mixture of scents filled Daryl’s nostrils.

The faint remains of an aftershave that smelled really good and was even slightly familiar mixed with the earthy scent of the woods, of wet leaves, moss and soil. Both was covered by a reeking layer of alcohol and vomit and had Daryl draw back instantly, pulling a face. The guy was breathing alright and in right that moment Daryl thanked the Heaven above for the fact that he bought chewing gum this morning.

          “Drunk as a skunk, the fucker”, Daryl growled, while he patted the man’s cheek. “Hey, wake up! Time ta get yer sorry ass off the damn road ‘n’ go home.”

He hadn’t really expected a reaction. If all that cold water hadn’t been able to wake this man, Daryl’s insistance was unlikely to be of more success. The alcohol in this man’s blood probably was the minor problem. The fact that said blood was seeping out of him and that he’d been hit by a car, may have been the primary reason for concern.

          “Look, man, ya gotta wake up for me, ‘kay? I can’t take ya to no hospital. Can’t go back. Can’t have questions. Dunno what the hell kinda party ya was havin’ in ‘em woods, but it ain’t ma problem.”

He looked into the unmoving, pale features of the stranger and sighed.

          “Yeah, obviously it _is_ ma problem.”

Daryl stood and pulled in another deep breath, casting the other man a relenting glance. Then he pushed his arms under the guy’s armpits and started dragging him to his car.

          “Yer heavier than ya look, Jack”, he grunted, while he tried to lift the injured man off the ground and maneuver him into the passenger seat of his car.

When he had managed and the stranger sat limply in his seat, Daryl gave his thigh a gentle pat.

          “Dunno who the hell ya are, but that’s a good name, right? Ya sure as hell did hit the road there, Jack”, he grinned about the bad pun.

The smile had vanished by the time he was seated behind the wheel and cast his companion another look.

What was he supposed to do now? He had meant it – there was no going back and he couldn’t take the man to a hospital. He could take him to any random place and just dump him there, any place where someone else was going to find him soon and would end up having to deal with the problem.

But what if they didn’t? What if they just turned their back, too? Daryl had left _Jack_ to his own devices once – he wouldn’t do it again. Although the dumb dude had run into his car and technically all this was _his_ fault, Daryl still felt responsible. He had to make sure that guy was alright. Why, he couldn’t even tell. No one had ever been his responsibility and all his life he had only taken care of one single person, and that was Daryl Dixon.

          “Yeah, and maybe that’s the damn problem”, he muttered into the stillness of the cabin. “I got no one else than Daryl Dixon and he sucks at times.”

Tiredly he ran a hand through his dark, shoulder-length hair, pushing back the long, wet bangs that had been dripping in his face. After another hesitating moment, Daryl reached across the unconscious man and pulled on the seatbelt in order to buckle him in.

          “Wouldn’t want ya ta get injured in an accident”, he commented sarcastically, before he stepped on the gas pedal.

He didn’t even noticed that the little voices in the back of his mind had fallen quiet. What he did notice was that it felt actually good to be talking to someone else other than himself for a change. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song lyrics are from _"Dreaming while you sleep"_ by Genesis


	3. Chapter 3

Daryl still hadn’t found a solution, still didn’t know where he was supposed to be going when the sign _Woodbury Inn_ came into sight.  
A motel! Why not? It meant a safe, dry, warm place to stay for a while, get a break and the chance to figure out what to do next. He could take a closer look at _Jack_ there and see how bad those injuries truly were. Maybe the man just needed a good night’s sleep – just like Daryl – and in the morning he would wake up with a couple of bruises and probably hell of a hangover, hopefully no recollection of what had really happened and then they’d go their different ways and that was that.  
And if things took a turn for the worse, then Daryl would call an ambulance, stay out of sight till they arrived and he had made sure that they took good care of his _problem_ and then he’d be on his way. It was the best he could do.

When he pulled into the parking lot and cast a look around, he couldn’t help wrinkling his nose. He wasn’t used to staying at the Hilton, but this was about the most run down and sleazy motel he’d ever been at and that was saying a lot. But this really wasn’t the time to start being picky.  
Maybe it was exactly the place that suited his situation best. A place where no one would ask questions or give a damn about who they were - and where no one paid attention to him carrying a seemingly lifeless body into the building. Then again, usually it was someone carrying a lifeless body _out_ of a building and dumping it into their car that would raise suspicion, not the other way round.  
Either way, Daryl would be carrying nothing nowhere unless he was able to pay for the room and he knew that he didn’t have a single dime on him.

It had all gone too quickly. He hadn’t just left, he had _run,_ fearing for his life. He hadn’t had the time to think about money or grab the few things he owned at all. He had left it all behind – another shitty place that never deserved to be called ‘home’ and another shitty person who had used and abused him. Apparently all the good guys in this world were either taken or not gay – or it was just fate that he was brought into this world by one of those violent bastards, spent his life with one of them after the other, only to one day probably leave this world due to one of them taking matters too far. Today Daryl had gotten away. Next time he might not be that lucky.

          “Alright, Jack”, he said to his still unconscious companion, “you gotta help me out here.”

He parked the car a few yards away from the office to not draw attention and then leaned over to unzip _Jack’s_ jacket. Cautiously he reached his hand into the inside pocket where he had noticed the outlines of a wallet before, and pulled it out.

          “’m savin’ yer sorry ass. Least ya can do is pay for the room”, he said out loud, frowning at the guilty inflection of his own voice.

He had never had second thoughts about taking other people’s money – whether they gave it to him freely or he had to take it. He had to eat, needed clothes on his back and a place to stay. He figured they owed him. The world owed him for all he was being put through day in, day out. He had never felt guilty about stealing. Never. Till now.  
The features of this man were soft and gentle, despite the blood that marred them currently. His clothes were new, not any brand-name pieces, but not Walmart, either. He probably had a good job, a family, led a _normal_ , decent middle-class life. He didn’t appear to be the kind of guy who liked to get drunk out of his wits, unless there was some sorrow to drown, some problem at hand he had no other way of handling. And when he had, he made sure to stay far away from people – out in the woods, where he was unlikely to get into trouble and hurt anyone.

          “That plan really flew, dude.” 

Reluctantly Daryl turned the interior lighting on and then flipped the wallet open. He couldn’t help a heavy sigh when the first thing he saw was the picture of a pretty, brunette woman that was smiling back at him. Instantly Daryl’s eyes flicked to his companion’s left hand and he wasn’t even surprised to see a wedding ring there he hadn’t noticed before.

          “Figures”, he grumbled. “I’s right – the good men are all married or hetero ‘n’ ya hadda take the cake ‘n’ be both. Right, Jack?”

Cursing under his breath, Daryl pulled the driver’s license out and took a closer look.

          “Richard Grimes”, he read, casting another side glance to the man in the passenger seat. “Rick, huh? Four-letter-word, so – close enough.”

When he checked for money he found several 50-dollar-bills along with some change and couldn’t help whistling in appreciation. He had never even seen that kind of money all at once, let alone owned it.  
By rights anybody who had to stay a night in this place should have gotten a fair redress instead of being charged for a room here, but Daryl doubted that the manager of this shithole would see things his way, so he slipped one of the bills into his pocket. That sure ought to be more than enough. Probably more than the entire place was worth.  
For a long moment his eyes rested on Rick’s face.

          “Hey”, he nudged the man gently, “ya with me there, buddy?”

Rick didn’t move and there was no indication that he had heard him. A second later another 50-dollar-bill found its way into Daryl’s pocket, while he gritted his teeth.

          “Sorry”, he just said almost inaudibly. “I … I really need this. I …” He broke off.

Not because he was talking to an unconscious man, but because he didn’t have the words. He was _stealing_ from an unconscious man, too. Someone he had almost gotten killed and who still might not have been out of the woods, no pun intended. Sometimes Daryl wondered how much lower he’d get before the end. 

Gently he returned the wallet to Rick’s jacket and then left the car to head to the office and get them a room.

 

_Room_ was definitely an overstatement, Daryl couldn’t help thinking the moment he had pushed the squeaking door open and turned the lights on, grateful for the fact that he didn’t get electrified instantly. He adjusted Rick’s weight on his shoulders, while he was giving him a fireman’s lift, and then reluctantly stepped over the threshold.  
The smell that greeted him and the general appearance of this place let the cougar cage at the local zoo look like the presidential suite of the Four Seasons and Daryl wrinkled his nose in disgust. Even his father’s shabby trailer had been tidier and that was saying a lot.

          “Jeez”, Daryl muttered while he took a step forward, “smells like someone died in here ‘n’ I sure hope they ain’t still around.”

He approached the bed and let the limp body cautiously slide off his shoulders, before he went back and closed the door.

          “There we are, honey”, he teased. “Never thought I’d ever carry any dude over the threshold.”

Rick was still entirely unresponsive. Daryl had tried to wake him several times ever since they had left the site of the accident, had time and again checked his vital signs and while Rick was breathing on his own and his pulse was steady and strong, he wouldn’t wake up.  
There was no telling how much alcohol was in his blood or how hard the car had hit him, whether there were severe injuries Daryl wasn’t aware of. He would have to check. Couldn’t take any chances. The last thing he needed, the last thing he _wanted_ was to wake up tomorrow morning next to a dead man.

He hurried over to what passed as _bathroom_ here and got one of the surprisingly soft and clean towels. It stopped being clean the moment Daryl had lowered himself to the bedside and pressed the soft fabric gently to Rick’s still bleeding head wound.  
He had to stop the bleeding, that was the priority. Cautiously he dabbed the towel to the cut on Rick’s forehead and watched with satisfaction as the blood flow seemed to cease after a while. When he was sure that the wound had clogged enough, he lifted Rick’s head gently off the pillow and placed the towel underneath, before he lowered the unconscious man back down and used the ends of the towel to dry his hair.  
The auburn curls sprung into all directions in an unruly mess and Daryl thought it looked absolutely adorable. He loved curls, for whatever reason, and couldn’t help wrapping one of them around his finger with the ghost of a smile on his face.

He was surprised that the little voice of the annoying young girl didn’t chide him for that instantly, telling him how very inappropriate it was to play with the hair of an unconscious and injured man. Maybe she had given up, knowing that he’d do it anyway, no matter what she said.

He probably would have continued playing a while longer, if the need to check for more injuries and the uncomfortable feeling of the wet clothes on his skin hadn’t caught his attention.  
He would have loved a hot shower now, a change of clothes, something to eat and a cold beer.

          “Yeah, and a mansion by the sea, a bright red Ferrari and a guy looking like Brad Pitt for a good lay.”

He gave a derisive snort. None of this was likely to happen, including the change of clothes, food and the cold beer. He was still getting his hopes up though as far as the shower was concerned, although given their whereabouts that was very optimistic.  
He had mentally crossed the Brad Pitt part only seconds after it had popped up – looks weren’t important. A bonus, but not important. Just once he liked to be with a guy who wouldn’t hurt him – _that_ was definitely his No. 1 wish.

But right now his daydreams would have to wait. He had to take care of Rick now –  check for injuries and get him out of the cold and wet clothes – and without giving it much thought he unzipped the sand-colored jacket once again and started peeling it off the lean body. The name ‘Jack’ written on the front of the piece of clothing caught his attention and a grin flashed over Daryl’s face for a moment. Jack Wolfskin. He chuckled to himself.

          “Still think _Jack_ was a good name, but _Wolfskin_? Rick Grimes suits ya better.”

After the jacket had been discarded onto the floor, Daryl started to unbutton the blue plaid button-down shirt the man was wearing, although it was only wet where the rain had found its way through the collar and sleeves. _Jack Wolfskin_ was a kind of stupid name, but obviously good quality as far as waterproof clothing was concerned.

Daryl should have hurried with the task at hand, but he took his time, swallowing thickly against a lump in his throat when he noticed his pulse rate pick up with every button of the shirt that came undone.  
This wasn’t the first man he undressed, but definitely the first he had no intention of fucking with. He wasn’t even gonna say it, but he sure _had_ gotten a buck for each guy he’d been in a motel room with. Maybe not in dollar bills – he wasn’t a whore – but if there was something he’d learned a long time ago then that nothing in life ever came for free. Nothing. And most certainly not his most valuable body parts. So the least he expected was to be bought a drink or a meal or for them to pay the room. If they left him a few bucks on top, fine. One way or the other, they owed him, so payment in whichever way was part of the deal.

When Daryl had opened the last button and pushed the soft fabric away, he held his breath for a moment and just indulged in the view. Rick’s skin was pale, but the slightly darker tint on his arms where a t-shirt would have ended indicated that over the summer he had probably had a nice tan. He was slim, almost too thin, but there were well-defined muscles in his upper arms and stomach, so Daryl assumed that the man was doing workout on a regular basis and was probably as fit as a fiddle.  
Rick’s chest hair was curly, too, and just the right amount – Daryl didn’t like a guy’s chest to be hairless like a baby’s ass or covered by fur. He appreciated a little hair to play with, run his finger through …  
Before he knew it, he was doing just that, hoping for the annoying little voice to remain quiet and stay out of this. He let the tips of his fingers run gently over Rick’s torso, starting with the collarbone and stopped just a moment there when he noticed a scar right underneath it on the left hand side.  
Scars were something he was familiar with – he had quite enough of his own. Most of them caused by his father’s belt on his back, but new ones had been added even after he had left. Apparently people thought as soon as there was a certain amount of scars on a man’s skin, a few more or less wouldn’t make a difference. A way of thinking that had illegal garbage dumps grow over time – because as soon as the heap was high enough, everybody thought it was perfectly fine to add their own load to it.  
Maybe that was what most people saw in Daryl – a garbage dump where they were able to get rid of their frustration and anger. And if they left more marks on his skin in the process, it wouldn’t make much of a difference. To them.  
It did make a difference to Daryl, because no matter how hard he tried to forget – each time he saw these scars he was reminded. They were a map of his world, a painting of his miserable life.  
Daryl wondered what happened to Rick. What had caused that scar and left a mark on the otherwise flawless skin that would remind the man forever.  
He placed his hand gently, almost protectively over the area, feeling Rick’s heartbeat under his palm as he did so, and just let it lay there for a moment.  
‘A sorrow shared is a sorrow halved’, they say, and Daryl didn’t see this scar as a blemish – it was the sign of a bad experience Rick survived. That was something they had in common.  
After another gentle stroke to the injured spot, Daryl’s fingers travelled south, hesitating just a heartbeat before he ran them over the nipples and then proceeded slowly over every single rib, checking for fractures. Of course, that’s what he was doing – checking for injuries.

He could almost see the blonde girl roll her eyes.

There seemed to be butterflies in Daryl’s stomach all of a sudden and his fingers and toes prickled in a way he’d never known before. Was he nervous? Nervous about undressing a guy? That was ridiculous – he had lost his virginity a good twenty years ago and what he’d also lost was count of how many men he had been with since then. And still – this was different.  
Rick’s skin was way softer than Daryl would have imagined, warm, comfortable … Comfortable? Funny, the definition didn’t even seem to be so far off. Yes, he felt comfortable with this man here, and the way he was able to touch in a gentle, slow, caressing way was entirely new to him.

He had never had the time to do that before. The guys he’d been with had taken him to a motel for a reason and they didn’t have the time and patience for _slow and gentle._ He couldn’t remember ever having the time to really look at them, to indulge in the feeling of skin on skin, caresses, glances, a kiss. Clothes usually were more or less torn off of him and only a heartbeat later they’d been over – and inside – of him, doing what they came for. They barely ever introduced themselves or ask him his name, didn’t care for foreplay or cuddling after. In and out and hasta la vista. That was the pattern.

Daryl swallowed against a raspy sensation in the back of his throat.  
No sense in questioning his way of living now. It was what it was, and it was unlikely to ever change. He was just playing on the wrong team, that was the problem. The pretty, brunette lady back home probably got tenderness and cuddles and kisses from this man, but apparently gay dudes didn’t appreciate such sappy stuff. It was all about sex – whether it was a one-night stand or a longer lasting relationship, it always came down to the one thing. There was probably just something wrong with Daryl, longing for _more._

When his hands reached the waistband of Rick’s jeans and started opening the button and fly, Daryl gasped and sucked in the air when he felt an instant reaction in his own pants. That, too, was new.  
He was a man in his prime and had his needs and desires – and thus he had sex, simple as that. But it was a luxury to find a guy who was able to really arouse him, to hit the right spot to make him feel good and even come. Too many times he had to lay hand on himself after to rub one out, but he had never given up hope to find the right guy one day. The one who would make him feel _more_. And however rude and inconsiderate he was usually treated, it still was better than being alone. Right? When had he started to question these things?

Rick wasn’t doing a thing, was just lying there motionless and not even conscious, and still he was evoking feelings that Daryl had never known. God, the man was so damn beautiful.  
Daryl couldn’t take his eyes off him – off the curls, the handsome features adorned by the stubbles of a three-day-beard, small sensitive lips and wrinkles around the eyes that indicated that he liked to laugh. Daryl wondered what color those eyes were and found himself almost praying for blue. He was a sucker for blue eyes.  
The proportions of the other man’s body were just perfect – the long legs, slim waist, the soft, elegant fingers … Daryl hardly dared take the pants off now, afraid that the rest of this body would be pure perfection, too, and make him come undone.

 

While Rick’s shoes and clothes built a wet heap on the floor and he was lying naked on the covers, exposed and vulnerable, Daryl stood frozen next to him and fought against the turmoil of emotions that was raging inside of him.  
He couldn’t understand what he was feeling, could barely handle it. This man was perfection from head to toe and Daryl was achingly hard just looking at him. And yet, he didn’t even think about touching that beautiful body, just felt an incredible _tenderness_ wash over him that he had never felt for anyone before. He would have loved for those eyes to open, so he could look into them. Was longing to find out what that man’s voice sounded like. And much that he would have wanted to touch Rick now, there was no way in the world he would take advantage of his current condition. If they were to touch at all, he wanted Rick to want that, too.  
For just a moment he allowed himself to get lost in daydreams of that man’s hands on his body, of those lips on his own. He looked into the peaceful, relaxed features and wondered what it was like to wake up next to someone who was still peacefully asleep. He had never woken up next to someone. One-night stands didn’t stay for breakfast. And neither did long-term lovers, who were either married or just didn’t give a damn about the cuddling and snuggling part.  
Rick would be the first. Tomorrow morning Daryl would wake up next to this man and he could barely wait. The first guy he had spent the night in a motel room with without sex, without even touching and yet he felt better than he had felt in ages.  
If only for a while he could dream. Tomorrow reality would catch up to him again – the reality that this man would never be his and was going to leave as soon as the sun came up. There were no indications of any other injuries next to the head wound and that wasn’t severe. Apparently the car had only grazed him and after he had slept it off, Rick Grimes would be on his way and leave Daryl’s life forever. But until then, Daryl could dream.

He pulled the now wet covers out from under the still unconscious man, took the dry ones off the other side of the bed and spread them over Rick, gently tucking him in. He checked on the head wound once more and smiled when he found that the bleeding had stopped. Gently he ran a hand over the damp curls, while he pulled in a deep, shuddering breath.

“Always hoped to run into a guy as beautiful as you. Never meant to run one _over._ ”

Daryl sank into a chair that sat by the window, ignoring his own still soaking wet clothes, and sat motionless for a while just watching Rick sleep.  
He didn’t know that man, hadn’t spoken a word to him, hadn’t even looked him in the eyes. How was it possible to feel _anything_ for someone who was a complete stranger, whom he had only just met, who wasn’t even awake yet? It must be his fantasies running wild, his dreams and hopes, the fact that there was an emptiness inside of him that he had longed to get filled for quite a while now.

He wasn’t the boy anymore who left home more than twenty years ago. Things had changed. _He_ had changed.  
Tiredly Daryl ran his hands over his face and rubbed over his stinging eyes. He was alone, so terribly alone and he longed for someone so badly.

         “Pity it can’t be you, Rick Grimes”, he whispered to the sleeping man, while a single tear ran down his cheek.  


	4. Chapter 4

Daryl sat a while longer in the chair by the window, until the uncomfortable, cold feeling of the wet clothes on his skin became so irritating that he decided to brace himself and head into the shower.

He had grown up in poverty and had to sleep in the streets often enough during the past twenty years, so he wasn’t easily disgusted, but this bathroom sure was a challenge. The first thing he saw when stepping into the room were three cockroaches quickly running across the dirty tiles and disappearing into a crack in the wall.

          “Pets. How nice”, Daryl commented dryly.

After a peek in the moldy shower stall he shortly considered going in fully dressed or at least leaving his shoes on, but his father’s voice telling him to stop being such a ‘fucking pussy’ had him reconsider. Obviously there was no place in the world and no time of the day these voices would ever leave him be and just shut up.

 

When Daryl emerged from the bathroom half an hour later he actually felt good. Even better than good.  
He felt warm, content and clean, and although the miraculously hot water hadn’t been able to wash his sins and bad memories away, it had at least been able to loosen some of the tight knots in his muscles.  
A smile played around his lips when his eyes came to rest on the peacefully sleeping man in the bed.  
Daryl had taken care of his hard-on in the shower, masturbating to the thought of the beautiful man next door till he had come with a suppressed scream and his heart beating so hard that he was sure everybody in this sleazy motel could hear it.

The blonde girl had chosen right that moment to pop up and let him know how dangerous it was to include Rick Grimes in his daydreams, make him part of his fantasies and develop highly inappropriate feelings for him. Dreams ended and as sure as the rising sun would drive the night away, Rick would leave, too.  
As if Daryl wasn’t aware of that! Nevertheless, he had told her to get the hell out of the bathroom while he was jerking off, thinking about his dream lover. God damnit. Did that bitch know no limits? He wasn’t stupid. He was just lonely. And all he wanted was one night with this man close by, even if they never really touched.  
He felt tingly all over just anticipating slipping under the covers. Wasn’t he entitled to a few peaceful moments, a few pleasant fantasies in his otherwise bleak and dark life?

He had been as thorough in washing up as hardly ever before in his life. There hadn’t been any shampoo, just an old, clearly used piece of soap with a pubic hair of the previous user still sticking to it, but despite feeling like throwing up, Daryl had used it anyway. Had almost wasted the entire piece to make sure every inch of his body, including his hair, was spick and span and smelled like … _roses_?

His brother would have laughed in his face now, saying some taunting shit like  
          “Now ya even smell like the li’l girl ya are, Darylena.”  
Merle. His big brother Merle, who’d been a total jackass and the only person who had ever truly loved him. Home had still be _home_ as long as Merle had been around, had taken care of and protected his baby brother – from their old man and the world out there alike.  
Not a day had gone by since that cold winter morning when Merle overdosed that Daryl hadn’t thought of him – and still missed him as though he’d died only yesterday.  
After Merle, there had never been anybody else who was _someone_ to him. 

For a moment Daryl’s heart grew heavy and his throat constricted, the way it always did when the memory of his older brother haunted him, but just a glance at Rick had the sun break through the clouds in his mind again.

With only a towel wrapped around his waist, he picked up all the wet clothes that lay on the floor and took them into the bathroom to hang them. It was warm in the room, so he hoped by morning they’d be dry enough to wear, otherwise both he and Rick would have the very unpleasant experience ahead to don moist, cold and scratchy clothes. Surely not the best way to get acquainted with the man, especially since Daryl had some explaining to do about how those clothes had come off in the first place, and why.

He turned to the mirror over the sink, wiped his hand over the smooth, steamy surface and then stared at his reflection for a long moment, gritting his teeth. He leaned forward and took a closer look at his face – at the black eye and the split lip that would be an unfriendly reminder for a while – and wished this guy wasn’t him. Was just some other fool who’d been dumb enough to get involved with the wrong person and had ended up coming out on the short end. Again. It was so immensely exhausting and depressing, being Daryl Dixon.  
He had hoped this time it’d be different. He’d actually seen the same guy for months now, on and off, and although it had been far from being a relationship, there was something _steady_ and familiar about only sleeping with the same man exclusively for a while. The guy had even been somewhat considerate – as long as he had gotten what he wanted – and had paid for a motel room for Daryl to stay in.  
Daryl had welcomed the roof over his head and had chosen to delude himself, thinking that it was offered to him, because someone cared, because he was more than just an _affair_. He knew, of course, that it had served only one purpose – to make sure Daryl was available at all times and _owed_ him. What they had, had never been anything serious bound to end with a 'happily ever after', but while it lasted Daryl couldn’t have cared less.  It was better than just being a one-night stand or worse – a quick lay in some dirty back alley or the men’s room of a gay bar. 

With a sigh Daryl pulled a strip of chewing gum out of the pocket of his jacket that was hanging in the shower stall, and hungrily stuffed it in his mouth while he walked back into the other room. It would have to do – as substitute for dinner as well as toothpaste.  
There was a diner across the street and it was only 9 p.m. – surely they would still be open – but Daryl couldn’t head over there now, dressed in no more than a towel, and he had no intention of putting his wet clothes on again. No, fact of the matter was he had no intention of leaving this room, leaving _him._

For a moment he wondered how Rick would react in the morning when he woke up in a motel room, in bed with a strange _guy_ and butt naked. _Surprised_ would probably not quite cover it. At best he’d just punch Daryl in the face, but he was likely to sue him for sexual harassment and abduction or something.  
Of course Daryl could avoid an awkward situation by sleeping in the terribly uncomfortable chair or down on the dirty floor with the cockroaches. That might save him from getting punched or sued, but weighing the options Daryl was totally willing to take his chances. Surely Rick would understand.  
There was only one bed and Daryl was dead tired after saving Rick’s life? That was the _lame excuse_ part of the plan. The one he would dish out as soon as Rick asked him what the heck they were doing in bed together.  
Fact was, even if there’d been two beds he would have found a good explanation why he just had to sleep right next to Rick. To be able to keep an eye on him? Make sure he was okay? He was grateful for the fact that there _was_ only one bed actually, so he wouldn’t need any alibis. He _wanted_ to sleep by Rick’s side, simple as that. Of course, that was something the man would never know.  
Just like Cinderella’s carriage would turn into a pumpkin at midnight, Daryl’s colorful rainbow bubble was going to burst at the break of dawn. Just one night. Just a few precious hours. That was all he was granted.

He turned the lights off save for the one on his nightstand and then lifted the covers to slip underneath. One of the blankets had gotten too wet for use when Rick had lain on it earlier, so there was only one left.

          _“How convenient”,_ the blonde girl commented dryly, but Daryl thought he heard an amused tinge in her voice.

For a moment he silently looked at the man lying next to him, simply savoring his delusion, the imagination that he’d be falling asleep next to someone who would still be there in the morning, who cared, would never hurt him … loved him. The last thought was a huge step, even though this was just a fantasy.  
Daryl reached out a hand and gently pushed one of the unruly curls out of Rick’s forehead to take another look at the wound, but that didn’t give any cause for alarm. The sleeping man stirred suddenly and let out a deep breath, making Daryl pull a face despite himself. He wished he could force feed Rick one of the chewing gums or use that piece of soap on him, but a Dixon probably couldn’t expect even a fantasy to be picture-perfect. This was wonderful nevertheless, despite Rick reeking like the floor of an Irish Pub.  
Daryl turned the lamp on the nightstand off and lay still next to the other man, just listening to his deep and even breathing.

          “G’nite, babe”, he said, almost cringing instantly.

Maybe he was taking this fantasy thing a little too far now?

          _“Ya lost yer pathetic mind, boy?”_ he heard his father’s furious voice. _“A Dixon calling anyone by a fuckin’ pet name’s a thing unheard of.”_

True. But then maybe Daryl didn’t want to do what Dixons usual did – beating their sons and overdosing at the age of twenty-five. Maybe he’d love to have somebody one day he could call by a pet name. But _babe_ definitely wouldn’t be it. When the time came, he’d think of something. _If_ the time ever came.

He curled up on his side, turning his back to Rick and making sure he was keeping his distance. It was enough to feel the warmth that radiated off the other man’s body and to hear him breathe.  
With a content sigh Daryl closed his tired eyes and felt his limbs grow heavy quickly. The little wheels turned slower and slower as though there was honey in his head that had his thoughts run sluggish and become incoherent. The last one that even made sense was:   
_“Tomorrow ‘m gonna see yer eyes, Rick Grimes. Hope they’re blue.”_ __

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter Rick's gonna wake up ...


	5. Chapter 5

Daryl woke with a start when something hard poked him in the back and even before his eyes were entirely open, he knew what it was. His heart skipped a beat.  
Now and then he had the luxury to even _sleep_ in a motel bed with a guy next to him, if only for a short nap before a second inning was demanded. So he knew the feel of a hard erection pulling him out of sleep, which wasn’t a scenario he ever welcomed. Usually inning No. 1 left him nothing but sore, so more often than not he downright refused to go through a second round – which also more often than not led to a fight. Sometimes verbal, other times … not.   
This was the first time ever that being woken by a dude’s hard dick stabbing him had his stomach doing somersaults and his heart race in anticipation. _Jack_. No, wait – Rick. The man’s name was Rick. Rick fucking hetero Grimes.

Pop! The rainbow bubble burst when Daryl’s sleep-drugged mind went into work mode. What the heck was going on? This shouldn’t be happening.

He propped himself up on one elbow and cast a glance over his shoulder – and couldn’t help smiling the next moment when he looked into Rick’s relaxed and peaceful features. He was still asleep.   
Daryl’s smile turned into a grin. This sure was a first, too. Being woken by an erection caused by a full bladder or sweet dreams and not by hormones running wild in addition to expectations and demands – that was actually cute.   
Cautiously, in order not to wake Rick, Daryl turned around and lay facing the other man, watching him silently. The light of the morning sun bathed the room in a soft, yellow glow, which didn’t help with the ugliness of the place, but it helped Daryl to make out every little detail of Rick’s face. Every wrinkle, the dark lashes that fanned out underneath the still closed eyes, the shape of his nose and lips and every single white hair that was woven into the otherwise auburn curls, which now were an even greater mess than they had been last night. Again Daryl’s heart was racing faster than it should have.  
Why did he feel this way? Why did he _want_ to feel this way, even though he knew that it would only be painful as soon as Rick opened his eyes and the dream ended? Reality would be twice as cruel and merciless after, but that was a chance Daryl was willing to take in exchange for actually feeling _happy_ just once _._  
For just a few more precious moments, even though none of this was real, he wanted to linger in his fantasy and hold on with all his might. He regretted more than anything now that he had spent the night sleeping instead of watching Rick. He had a feeling that this was something he could very well do for hours without growing tired of it.   
The tingly sensation in his fingers was back, as were the butterflies in his stomach. For a moment his eyes abandoned Rick’s face and moved over the motionless form under the covers. Daryl’s mouth parched. How could he possibly resist?   
He expected the unnerving girl to chide him just for the thought now, but she remained quiet. Maybe she had fainted or something.  
Slowly Daryl lifted the covers a bit and peeked underneath. If he was being pulled out of his peaceful slumber, he did have the right to take a look at what woke him, right? 

He couldn’t help an appreciative whistle, right before a rough shove sent him flying backwards out of bed and had him land hard on his backside.   
When he looked up with surprise from where he was sitting, he saw Rick jump out of bed as though he had been electrified and stare at him with a mixture of annoyance, shock and incomprehension. The next second he realized that he was butt naked and grabbed a pillow to cover himself, which almost made Daryl burst out laughing, but he thought better of mocking Rick’s clearly confusing situation. 

        “Chill”, he addressed him instead, lifting his hand in a calming gesture, while he slowly got up. “Ain’t what it looks like.”

He had meant well, but the mere fact that the towel around his waist from last night slipped off his hips in that moment and left him standing naked in front of Rick, did little to soothe the agitated man.

        “It ain’t what it looks like?” Rick croaked. 

He made a couple of wild gestures around himself as far as that was possible while he held on to the pillow like a drowning man to a lifeline.

        “It ain’t what it looks like?!” he repeated a lot louder this time.

Words clearly failed him and what he really meant to say was most obviously: “Is there _really_ a harmless explanation for two guys naked in bed together in a motel, that is _not_ what it looks like?”

        “Yeah”, Daryl answered as though he had heard the unspoken question. 

He lifted the towel off the floor and wrapped it around his waist again.

        “Ya was drunk ‘n’ had an accident. Found ya lying on the highway.”   
That wasn’t the whole story, but at least it wasn’t a lie, either.  
        “Took ya here so ‘s ya could sleep it off. We ‘s both soaked, so I hung our clothes ta dry in the bathroom. ‘s all.”

Rick opened his mouth to reply, but then just closed it again and cocked his head as though this was the silliest story he had ever heard. 

        “Look, dude”, Daryl picked up in a clearly defensive inflection. “’twas the best I could do, ‘kay? If this”, he made a gesture at the room and himself, “ain’t good enough for ya, just leave a note next time ta leave ya lyin’ till some rich prick can scrape yer sorry ass off the highway.”

He wasn’t really angry, but he’d learned over the years that sometimes offense was the best defense and when he saw Rick’s features soften and even take on a guilty air, he knew it had been the right approach.   
When he came down from his adrenaline rush, Rick became aware of his splitting headache and a pained expression distorted his handsome face. It didn’t go unnoticed.

        “Ya bumped yer head pretty bad, man. Tell ya what – go take a shower ‘n’ get dressed ‘n’ then I’m gonna fill ya in over breakfast. There’s a diner across the street. – I’m buyin’.”

For a second the thought crossed his mind that it would be Rick’s money paying for the offered breakfast no matter who was buying, but he pushed it far into the back of his mind where the blonde girl could deal with it. 

The wild curls bounced shortly when Rick just gave a curt nod and had Daryl’s heart skip a beat again. Without any further word Rick headed to the bathroom and on passing him flashed Daryl a quick glance that still carried confusion – and suspicion. None of this was in any way surprising. 

        “Hey”, Daryl addressed him and caught Rick’s attention when he was halfway into the bathroom. “I got some chewin’ gum in the pocket a’ ma jacket. Take one.” 

It didn’t sound like an offer and with a slightly embarrassed air Rick nodded before he disappeared into the adjoining room.   
When the door had closed behind him, Daryl sank heavily onto the edge of the bed and breathed in deep a couple of times.   
Blue. Dear God, those eyes were really blue. No, that didn’t quite cover it – they were the most beautiful, strikingly cerulean blue he had ever seen.   
That sounded unlikely, taking into concideration how many people he had met in his life, but very few of them had ever looked him in the eyes. And not one of them had been Rick. 

        _“Are you falling for that guy?”_

Daryl almost flinched, when his dad’s voice and the blonde girl sounded in his head, totally in sync. Apparently they agreed for once that this was insane.  
Was he really falling for a perfect stranger, just because he had gorgeous blue eyes?  
No, it wasn’t just the blue eyes. He had started to fall for that perfect stranger even before he knew the color of his eyes and he would probably feel the same way even if they weren’t blue. This was the first time in all his life he had slept peacefully next to someone – someone who hadn’t hurt him, hadn’t _used_ him, hadn’t taken advantage of him, had _needed_ him. He had made Daryl feel warm, content and _safe,_ just by being _there_. He hadn’t been alone anymore. Even with other people around him, he had still always been alone, but with Rick things were different.

        _“No, they are not”,_ the two voices still agreed and wouldn’t leave him be. _“You are still fantasizing. Snap out of it! This man’s not yours to have and he never will be.”_

Daryl swallowed hard against the raspy sensation in his throat and wrapped his arms around himself. He was cold all of a sudden and he didn’t mean for Rick to hear the noise his heart made as it broke.   
They were right. He knew they were. If only it had lasted a little longer. 

 

When Rick came out of the bathroom, he was wearing his dirty, yet dry clothes and looked more at ease now than he had before. The former unruly curls were still moist, but tamed now and stuck out just slightly at his nape.    
Daryl cast him a smile of which he hoped it would be able to convince Rick of his good intentions, and said:

          “Gimme a minute.” He pointed to the bathroom. 

One of the curls fell into Rick’s forehead when he nodded wordlessly. He flinched slightly when he pushed it away and his fingers grazed the wound. 

        “Ya should prob’ly have that looked at”, Daryl said gently. “I ain’t no doctor. Had nothin’ ta disinfect ‘n’ cover it with, just stopped the bleedin’.”

        “Yeah. Thanks.” 

The situation was still awkward and Rick’s inflection clearly carried discomfort. There was a myriad of questions tumbling over each other in his mind and confused him, while he wondered if he really wanted to hear all the answers.  

 

When Daryl came out of the bathroom a few minutes later after quickly washing up, combing his hair with his fingers as best as he could, getting dressed and stuffing one of the chewing gums in his mouth, Rick was gone. 

For what felt like an eternity Daryl stood frozen in the doorway and let his eyes wander through the empty room, as though there was just the slightest chance that he had missed him, knowing very well that this wasn’t the case. Rick had left.   
Daryl wasn’t even surprised. In the same situation he probably would have done the same thing. He didn’t blame Rick, but still a wave of disappointment and hurt washed over him suddenly and had him gasp. He felt a terrible sense of _loss_ , as though he’d just been deserted by his best friend. His only friend. And he didn’t even know the man. 

        “Hit the road again, Jack, huh?” he whispered into the quiet and empty room, fighting against a stinging sensation in his eyes.

        _“Get a grip, ya wuss”,_ Will Dixon chided in his mind. _“Dixons ain’t cryin’ over no one. Dixons don’t need no one, either.”_

        “This one does”, Daryl croaked, swallowing against the tears that were pooling in his eyes. 

He wondered if his dad was still alive. He hadn’t seen him in twenty years and with the way of life his old man had led, he wouldn’t be surprised if Will was gone.   
Maybe he should go home, either way. If the old Dixon was still there, he might even be happy when his only surviving kin came back. Maybe. But even if not – a bastard of a father still was better than years of loneliness. There was nothing for Daryl out here. 


	6. Chapter 6

With a deep sigh Daryl zipped up his jacket and searched his pockets for the pack of smokes. He needed one badly now. After that he’d try to figure out what to do, where to turn, how to go on – and why.   
He had lit a cigarette and was taking a deep drag even before he stepped outside. The door fell shut behind him the same moment he blew the gray smoke into the cool morning air, facing a new hopeless day. The next moment a voice right next to him almost made him jump out of his skin.  
         
        “Can I have a drag?” 

Daryl whirled around and found Rick leaning with his back against the wall, one foot propped up against it and his hands buried in the pockets of his jacket. 

        “Jeez, ya gotta startle the shit outta me?”

        “Sorry, didn’t know you were so jumpy.”

        “Ain’t. Just didn’t expect ya there. Thought ya left.”

He held the cigarette out to Rick and with a thankful nod the other man accepted it and took a drag before handing it back.

        “No, just couldn’t stand it in there a minute longer.” He pulled a face. “Did you search long to find such an intriguing place?”

        “Nah. I’m a natural. Seem to be drawn to places like this.”

Rick cocked his head while he gave the other man a scrutiny. This could have been a joke, but the slightly bitter inflection made him wonder. 

        “Does the offer for breakfast still stand?” he asked and couldn’t help noticing how the other man’s eyes visibly lit up. 

        “Sure. Guess ya got a couple a’ questions, huh?”

        “Makes you think that?” Rick replied sarcastically, yet not unfriendly. 

 

As soon as they were seated opposite each other in a booth of the diner, a pretty blonde with a name tag that read “Andrea” approached the table, carrying a coffee pot, and filled two mugs to the brim without even asking if they cared for some. 

        “Morning, folks”, she greeted with a slightly strained inflection, while she let her eyes wander from one man to the other. “My name is Andrea. What can I get you?”

She held her breath for a moment. Just half an hour ago a bunch of guys had thought it extremely funny to answer that question with “How about your cute little ass on a silver platter, sugar tits?”   
Andrea had answered that request by dumping the hot contents of her coffee pot into the lap of that guy and she would hate having to waste more coffee this morning.   
She let out her breath when she saw one of the men in front of her flash her a friendly smile, while the other one pushed his long bangs out of his face and reached for his coffee mug as though it was a life-saving elixir. All the while he didn’t even look up, but kept his eyes resting on his companion.   
        A smile tugged at the corners of the woman’s lips.  
The motel across the street had a reputation and when a couple of men showed up here in the morning it was either a bunch of truckers on a break or a pair of love birds. These two sure didn’t look like truckers. 

        “I’m starving”, the curly-haired guy said and derailed Andrea’s train of thought. “I think I’ll have scrambled eggs, bacon and some hash browns, please.”

        “Sure, hon”, she answered, frowning in surprise for a moment when she noticed the wedding ring.   
        “How about you?” she addressed the man’s companion, who still hadn’t taken his eyes off his friend.

No wedding ring. Apparently they weren’t a couple. Maybe just two friends or brothers or whatever, who happened to pass through here? That certainly did not explain why one was undressing the other one with his eyes over the rim of his mug. So Curly was cheating.   
For a moment Andrea felt like wasting another pot of coffee, but reconsidered quickly. This wasn’t her business after all. 

        “I’d like the pancakes with maple syrup”, Daryl replied to Andrea’s question, reluctantly turning his eyes away from Rick to look at her. “Lots a’ syrup, please. Got a sweet tooth.”

This brought a smile to the blonde’s face, while she nodded. For a moment she wondered how he had gotten that black eye and when she cast a probing glance at Curly she couldn’t help noticing the wound and bump on his forehead. 

        “Had a rough night, guys?” she slipped, blushing instantly when she realized how that had sounded.  
        “I mean, er, would you like some ice for that or something?”

She gestured to Daryl’s black eye and Rick’s injury and blushed even more when she was met by two sets of blue eyes that just stared at her. 

        “I’ll get your order”, she said quickly and then beat a hasty retreat. 

As soon as she was out of earshot, Daryl started chuckling until he noticed Rick’s serious expression.

        “ _Did_ we have a rough night?” the curly-haired man asked with a frown and all amusement faded from Daryl’s face.

        “Look, ‘s like I said – ya was totally shitfaced last night ‘n’ takin’ a nap on the highway. Bumped yer head obviously and ya was bleedin’, so I took ya some place where I could take care a’ ya. We was soakin’ wet, so I hung the clothes ta dry. ‘s all that’s to it.”

Rick looked at him silently for a moment, biting back the question why he woke to that dude peeking under the covers at his morning boner then.

        “Why a motel? Why didn’t you just take me to a hospital?”

        “Sorry, but ya don’t look like the type a’ guy to me who usually wanders through the woods with Jack Daniels keepin’ ya company.”  
The name ‘Jack’ really matched perfectly in more than one respect.  
        “So I figured till I knew yer story, I best take ya to a place where no one was gonna ask no questions.” 

Rick cocked his head when he looked at the black eye of his companion and couldn’t help wondering it it wasn’t in fact that guy who didn’t want any questions. But that wasn’t his business.

        “You probably saved my life then, huh? Thank you. Guess it should be _me_ buying _you_ breakfast. It’s the least I can do.”

Daryl bit his lip for a moment when he could almost feel the blonde girl slapping him up the back of his head.   
                   
        “If ya insist.” 

        “I do. – I’m Rick, by the way. Rick Grimes.” 

        _I know._

Daryl tried to keep a straight face, while he reached for the hand that was extended to him in greeting. He drowned in the blue eyes before him, while he indulged in the warm, firm grip of the other man’s hand. Only when he saw Rick’s eyebrows rise to his hairline, he realized that he hadn’t let go again. Daryl pulled his hand back quickly and muttered:

        “Pleasure.” 

There was a pause, while Rick looked at him expectantly. When Daryl wouldn’t say anything more, he asked:

“How about you? Got a name, too?”

“Yeah.”

That was all he said and after another moment of silence Rick acknowledged that with a shrug.  
    
   “Fine. You like being mysterious, huh?”

   “I like stayin’ incognito, till I know if people can be trusted.”

   “Bad experiences?”

“More than I care ta recall. – So, let’s hear it. Why was ya out there in a storm, walkin’ in ‘em woods all by yerself? What happened?”

Rick lifted his mug and took a sip of the hot brew, before he placed it back on the table.

“Can’t remember really. It’s all a blur.”  
         
“Yeah, no shit. Like I said, ya was high as a kite. Didn’t dare light a smoke next to ya.”

The ghost of a smile flashed over Rick’s face and then was gone again.

        “There was no car? I had a car.”

        “Nah, no car. Ya was stumblin’ about like a zombie, but …”

Damn! He saw the reaction in Rick’s eyes and started cursing himself silently.  Damn! Damn! Damn!  He had slipped.

        “Stumbling?” Rick asked with a suspicious frown. “Didn’t you say you found me lying by the roadside?”

Daryl started to nervously chew on his thumbnail, trying to come up with a good explanation, but couldn’t think of one. Anything but the truth would mean getting entangled in a web of lies and why should he lie? He hadn’t done anything wrong. 

        “‘Twas me, okay. Sue me! Ya came stumblin’ right in front a’ ma car ‘n’ I grazed ya or somethin’. Twasn’t ma fault, ya dumb shitfaced ass. Didn’t leave ya there or nothin’, so …”

        “Alright already, calm down.” Rick raised a soothing hand and ended Daryl’s agitated speech. “It was an accident, I get that.”

        “Ya bet it was.  Ain’t on me.”

          “Never said it was.”

Andrea returning with their breakfast meant a welcomed distraction and as soon as the woman had muttered her “Enjoy” and disappeared behind the counter again, both men started eating silently.   
The food was good. Not five-star cuisine, but way better than they had expected in a small diner in an equally small town, whose name they didn’t even know. Yet it was hard to enjoy it, despite being hungry, when this awkward silence hung between them now.  
After swallowing a rather large piece of pancake that almost choked him and washing it down with a large swig of coffee that burned his mouth, Daryl pulled in a deep breath and said:

        “What was ya runnin’ from?”

Rick froze in the motion and the fork that had been halfway to his mouth was dropped onto the plate. 

        “What makes you think I was running from anything?”

Daryl shrugged.  
         
        “Dunno. Just a hunch. Ya married, look like a guy with a nice home and good job, but ya ain’t happy. Midlife crisis or so? Maybe ya one of those guys who just mean to get a pack a’ smokes ‘n’ then never go back. Bet ya’ve been searchin’ for a reason to leave for the longest time.“

Rick gave the man across the table a long, silent look before he replied:

        “You’re talking about yourself?”

        “Nah. ’m leavin’ ‘cause I ain’t never had no reason ta _stay._ ”

 

Nothing more was said after that while they finished their meal. When Andrea returned to take their plates and asked them if they cared for a refill, she was sad to see the mood had changed for the worse.   
The long-haired guy was hiding behind his bangs now and didn’t look like a lovestruck teenager at the man across the table any longer. And Curly sat silently brooding and staring out of the window, clearly not in the here and now any longer. Pity. No matter what their background was, she couldn’t help thinking that they would have made a kind of cute couple. 

When she had left, a couple of more minutes passed in silence. Daryl was clutching his mug, frantically thinking of something to say, while Rick just stared outside, lost in thought. Whatever it was he was running from,  _ if  _ he was running from something at all, he apparently didn’t mean to talk about it.   
Suddenly Rick sat up straight and started searching his pockets, visibly annoyed when he couldn’t find what he was looking for.

        “Have you seen my cell?” he asked, a slight tinge of accusation in his inflection.

        “Ain’t taken it, if that’s what yer askin’”, Daryl shot back, wondering why the mood had shifted to ice age suddenly. 

        “Stop being so defensive, will you?”

        “Soon as ya stop accusin’ me a’ shit.”

        “I’m not! I was just asking about my damn cell.”

        “And I told ya I ain’t got yer  _ damn cell _ .” 

They just stared at each other for a moment, while Daryl tried to still his achingly beating heart. Rick’s anger wasn’t directed towards him and he knew it. He could see pain in those beautiful cerulean orbs that Rick tried to conceal and Daryl would have loved to take it away from him. Would have liked to just lean over the table now and kiss him, if that would make it better, would help any wound to heal and any sad memory to fade. But the world didn’t work that way. 

        “I’m on yer side”, he said softly and instantly the angry lines on Rick’s face smoothed.

He ran a hand through his curls and sighed.

        “Damn, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to take it out on you.”

        “Is  _ it  _ the reason why ya was drunk?”

        “Don’t wanna talk about it.”

Rick tried to shut down again, but the way he was absentmindedly playing with his ring didn’t go unnoticed – and answered Daryl’s question.

“Li’l trouble in paradise there, huh?”

“I said, I don’t wanna talk about it.”

The sharp edges had returned to Rick’s inflection and when Daryl watched him press his lips together in hurt and frustration, he knew all he had to know. 

        “Ya been cheated, huh?”

He heard Rick audibly gasp and knew that he was right on. 

“Which part of _I don’t wanna talk about it_ don’t you understand?” He cast Daryl a scowl, before picking up again. “What the hell makes you think I was cheated?”

Daryl lifted an eyebrow at how all of a sudden Rick obviously did want to talk about it after all. The guy was way more upset and confused than he was even aware of and Daryl’s heart went out to him.  

        “Yer angry, frustrated, confused and ya don’t want anyone ta know, ‘cause ya embarrassed that it happened to ya. If yer wife had died, ya’d wanna talk about her, ya’d be devastated ‘n’ …”

“You’re some damn psychiatrist or something?”

“Nah, just observant. ‘n’ I’ve seen lots a’ shitty stuff happenin’ ta people.”

“You ever been married?”

“Hell no.”

“Then you know nothing.”

Daryl watched wordlessly as Rick turned away from him and resumed his silent staring out of the window.   
Maybe the man was right. Maybe Daryl didn’t have first-hand experience of how it was to be married, but that didn’t mean he knew _nothing._ He knew enough.  
He had been involved with more than one guy who’d been married and it had never mattered to him personally whether they were or not. It wasn’t him cheating after all, wasn’t him who needed to face the someone back home with a lie. Daryl had never even given it a second thought.   
If those dudes needed him to get a good lay, then apparently it wasn’t going too well between the sheets of their marital bed. If anyone cheated on their spouse at all, something was definitely wrong with that marriage – and it had been screwed up before Daryl even became part of the picture. Not his fault. He wasn’t taking anything away that wasn’t already lost.  
Daryl had never been married, fact. He hadn’t even been in a steady relationship, he thought with the dull ache in his chest returning, but if he’d ever give his heart, that person would be his world. If he ever found Mr. Right out there, he would do anything, _anything_ to make sure his man would be happy, content, satisfied. His lover wouldn’t have a reason to go anywhere else for what he wanted, what he needed.  
_ My first, my last, my everything _ – that song actually had him cringe, but still he loved the thought.   
To have someone, to not be alone, to be in love. He wondered what that even felt like. Last night he had gotten a peek on how it might be. But Jack was gone now and Rick … God, Rick. 

“That why ya was out there?” Daryl picked up cautiously. “Tried ta get away from it all, looked too deep into yer glass ta forget the blow?”  
         
        “I guess, but you wouldn’t understand.”

        “So, tell me about it.”

“I said No!” Rick breathed in deep. “I can’t. Not yet.” 

Daryl just nodded silently and let it rest. There was no sense in pushing. It wasn’t his business anyway. After all, Rick and he – they weren’t friends or anything.   
To Rick, Daryl was just a guy who ran him over and stripped him in a sleazy motel while he was unconscious – probably an experience he wouldn’t tell his grandchildren about one day. It was more likely an experience he would want to forget as soon as possible and never mention to anyone at all.   
To Daryl, Rick was a guy he ran over, stripped in a sleazy motel while he was unconscious and had started to feel way stronger for than he ever should have, than should have been possible at all given the short period of time and circumstances. This was totally irrational. And it was an experience Daryl would have wanted to tell the world about, but who would even be listening?

        “I had a backpack”, Rick said into the stillness that followed, rubbing over his still aching forehead as though that would help him remember. “And I had a car.”

        “Huh”, Daryl acknowledged the information. “Can take ya back to where I found ya. Yer stuff’s gotta be somewhere around there.”

        _“What the heck’s the matter with ya, man? Why did ya say that? Ya already lost half a day ‘n’ the state line’s in the other direction. Why are ya offerin’ ta take that dude_ back _?”_

Sad azure blue eyes locked with his and Daryl _knew_ why. 

        _“Oh, brother.”_ He could almost see his old man roll his eyes and then the voice fell quiet.

        “Thanks”, Rick said softly. “I appreciate it.” 

That settled it. Daryl couldn’t bail out, now that he had offered to give the man a ride. The state line would still be there later and he could probably risk another hour or so. Maybe he was worrying in vain anyhow. His heart was even lighter all of a sudden over the mere prospect of spending another hour looking into a pair of cerulean eyes. 


	7. Chapter 7

After Rick had taken care of their check and left a gracious tip for Andrea, they were headed back across the street toward Daryl’s car. When they stood next to it, Daryl noticed the look on his companion’s face and cast him a dark side glance.

         “Told ya, if ya wanna be saved by some rich dude, leave a note next time yer playin' roadblock.”

         “I hope there’s not gonna be a  _ next time”,  _ Rick replied, while his hand flicked to the bump on his head. “And I wasn’t looking at the car – just that bumper sticker you got there.”  

Daryl peeked at the sticker in question and couldn’t help smirking.  
          _I brake for no one_

          “Yer lucky I made an exception, huh?”

         “You did?” Rick teased. “Maybe next time you wanna make that exception  _ before  _ you run people over.”

         “Hope there ain’t gonna be no  _ next time _ ”, Daryl repeated Rick’s words and for a moment they just looked at each other with an amused sparkle in their eyes. 

When Daryl noticed it fade from the other man’s face and the lines of worry and distress returned, he sighed. Reminded of his own problems, he nodded at the passenger side door.

         “C’mon, get in. Best take ya back now.” 

 

They drove in silence for a while. The rain had finally ceased and the rays of the morning sun fell onto the wet blacktop as well as the drops on the leaves of trees and bushes and made them glitter. It could have been beautiful, but neither man even paid attention.   
The silence hung between them like a heavy curtain and started to feel uncomfortable, but they both didn’t know what to say – or rather, what best  _ not  _ to say.   
Daryl flinched when Rick’s hand came forward suddenly. 

         “Mind if I turned the radio on?”

         “Nah, go ahead.”

For a moment an odd mix of random parts of songs and conversations filled the interior of the car as Rick flipped through the channels, looking for something he liked. When he stopped, the deep melodic voice of a man was singing about two teardrops that were floating down a river, having a conversation about the people who shed them.  
Daryl cringed.

         “Man, that crap’s gonna make ma ears bleed. Turn it off.”

         “Just one song, okay? I like country. Lots of those songs are melancholic and I kinda need that now.”

Shadow blue eyes flicked to the passenger side and cast Rick a compassionate look. 

         “Yer sad already, Rick, so why d’ya torture yerself with sad songs on top a’ that?”

         “That’s what they’re there for. It's like Elton John said in _Sad Songs_ – if someone else’s suffering enough to write it down and every single word makes sense, it’s easier to have those songs around. You know, ‘cause there’s someone else who feels just as shitty and that makes you feel like you weren’t alone.”

As if to prove his point he started to softly hum _Sad Songs_ , which together with the song on the radio sounded nothing short of awful, even to someone who liked both of those songs. And Daryl would have been lying saying that he did, so his features derailed visibly.

         “Yeah, alright already, I get it. Just stop singin’ ‘fore _you_ gonna make ma ears bleed, too. Woulda left ya on that road, if I’d known ya was into torturin’ people.”

A smile tugged on Rick’s lips, but it never reached his eyes. 

         “Ya ain’t alone”, Daryl said softly after a moment. “We all got our load ta carry.”   
They exchanged a quick glance.    
         “Just want ya ta know – I ain’t good with words, but I’s always good at listenin’.”

Rick acknowledged the offer with a thankful nod, but didn’t say anything, so for a while longer they drove in silence, listening to country music. Daryl humored his companion and didn’t change the channel and after a while he felt his heart beat lighter and some of the knots in his stomach dissolve.    
Rick was right. Most of those songs were kind of melancholic, told a story of loss and longing, sometimes with a good ending and other times not. They carried feelings, lots of them, and Daryl was able to relate to some of the fates those songs told about, could understand how the people in those songs felt – and why there were tears in Rick’s eyes that he tried to conceal by staring out of the passenger side window. 

         “Sorry I ain’t no help. Can’t understand what yer goin’ through.”

For a moment there was no reply, then Rick said in a choked voice:

         “I married my highschool sweetheart. I mean, almost all of our lives we’ve been together and I thought … I was hoping we’d grow old together. I just … I don’t understand …”   
He swallowed thickly as his emotions threatened to choke him.   
         “I always thought I was a good husband. Never forgot any special dates, listened, did my part of chores … Maybe I should have said “I love you” more often. Maybe …”   
He pulled in a deep breath.   
“It just hurts to find out I’m a complete failure, you know?”

Daryl cast him a side glance and chewed his lip for a moment, wondering if continuing this conversation was a good idea. If he did, he would be honest and Rick probably needed to hear what he had to say.   
Maybe it would help him see things differently and come to terms with his current situation. And maybe it would earn Daryl another black eye. There was only one way to find out.  
          
         “How was sex?”

Rick’s head whipped around.

         “Excuse me?”

         “Easy question, man. Was it still fun between the sheets or just going through the motions on a Saturday night?”

         “Don’t see how this is any of your business. Even if we knew each other longer than a few hours.”

Unexpectedly Daryl pulled over and stopped by the roadside. He turned the engine off and when the radio fell quiet, too, silence wrapped itself around the two men like a blanket. A heavy, smothering blanket.    
Daryl turned around in his seat to look the other man in the eyes. There was no bailing out now. The truth may hurt, but in the end it was the only thing that was able to pull Rick out of the dark abyss he was falling into.

         “Look, yer beatin’ yerself up here, thinkin’ ya wasn’t good enough or somethin’ or didn’t care enough, didn’t tell her often enough that ya loved her, whatever. ‘s all bullshit, man. Ain’t what it’s even about. Fact is – cheatin’ in most cases ‘s about sex, simple as that. She ain’t lookin’ for a new man ta share her life, and it don’t mean she wasn’t in love with ya no more – she prob’ly is. But maybe she’s got a couple a’ kinks, wants ta do stuff in bed she’s afraid ta ask of ya. Or it’s just the thrill of bein’ with someone new, experimentin’, the kick a’ bein’ found out – whatever it is, got nothin’ ta do with ya personally.”

Rick looked at him with wide eyes.

         “So now you’re the damn expert although you’ve never even been married?”

         “Don’t have ta. ’m one a’ the others.”

         “Others?”

Daryl cocked his head and cast him a meaningful glance. That guy really was as innocent and oblivious as a they come.

         “Others. Sorry ta tell ya this so bluntly, ya boy scout, but if yer sweetheart’s bumpin’ uglies in other places, she’s doin’ it with someone else, so yeah, _others._ But believe me – whoever the dude is who got lucky there, he don’t mean a thing to her prob’ly. Heart and soul – the parts that really matter – guess those are still all yers.” 

There was bitterness and regret peppering his voice and it didn’t go unnoticed. The way Rick’s eyes narrowed while his look seemed to reach all the way into Daryl’s soul was too intimate, too close for comfort and Daryl quickly looked away.    
He couldn’t let Rick see _what_ he was, how tainted his true colors had become over the years.   
He started the engine and steered the car back onto the road, accelerating instantly, while his hands clutched the wheel tightly. 

They drove for two miles without a word being spoken, then Rick suddenly picked up again.

         “Don’t expect you to understand. You’ve got your theory about something being wrong in a marriage if one partner goes cheating, but you know, the promise I gave meant something to me. If _I_ was missing something, I would just say so, talk about it, so why …? We could have worked it out. I never even got the chance to do better. It came totally out of the blue.”   
He pulled in a deep shuddering breath.   
         “I’ve never been with anyone else in all my life and now …”

         “Ain’t the end a’ the world, Rick.”

         “It’s the end of mine though.”

Just when Daryl meant to reply, an orange object lying a few feet off of the roadside caught his attention. 

         “That yer backpack?” he asked, pointing to the other side of the road.

Rick leaned over and then nodded.

After Daryl had parked the car, they got out and walked up to the spot where Rick’s backpack was lying – it was dirty and wet, but obviously untouched, so its contents should still be complete.    
With an uncomfortable tight feeling in his throat Daryl watched Rick go through his things. This was the spot they ran into each other last night – literally. The spot where he had almost gotten Rick killed – _if_ he hadn’t just grazed him and _if_ he hadn’t gone back after deserting him.    
His eyes fell onto the blacktop for a moment and he thought he saw traces of blood there, which was probably just his imagination. The memory of Rick lying there, motionless, made his eyes sting. If he hadn’t come to his senses in time, Rick would still be lying here …

Daryl looked up to let his eyes rest on the soft auburn curls, the long fingers that were fumbling with a cell now and the lean, very much alive body of the man, who was the reason for the happiest hours he had had in years. He tried not to think about the likelihood that as soon as they had found Rick’s car, they would go separate ways and probably never see each other again.

         “Damn!” 

Rick’s curse ended Daryl’s train of thought and the next moment he watched as an apparently broken cell was being tossed into the woods. 

          “Yer nuts, man? That’s the new iPhone, isn’t it?”

         “No, that’s a piece of useless crap. Guess it didn’t like getting soaking wet and being hit by a car. Something I can totally relate to, by the way.”

His pungent sarcasm didn’t go unnoticed. 

         “Yeah? Then maybe it shouldn’ta been out on the road in a fuckin’ rainstorm”, Daryl shot back.    
Then he frowned.   
         “How come ya wasn’t wearin’ the backpack?”

Rick stood and dusted himself down, although that was a silly thing to do considering how dirty his pants already were.  
          
         “I was at first, but as far as I remember it kept hitting me in the back of my head when … well, when I hadda toss my cookies.”   
He pulled a face when he saw Daryl’s features derail in the attempt not to laugh.  
         “Took it off after that and just dragged it along, I think.”

He picked it up and held it higher for Daryl to see.

         “Did you run over it a few times? Sure looks it.”   
          
         “Yer lucky no one ran over _you_ a couple a’ times, so stop bitchin’.”

         “My head feels as though someone did”, Rick muttered while he dropped the backpack. 

When Daryl heard the thud as it fell to the ground his face lit up. _That_ was what he had hit last night! The sickening thud at the front of the car when he had tried to evade Rick – he must have hit the backpack in the man’s hand and the impact sent the thing flying and knocked Rick off his feet. 

         _“Guess we can call it even then”,_ Daryl couldn’t help thinking, _“since ya sweeped me off of mine.”_

They deserted the backpack and started searching the area for Rick’s car. While Daryl went in the direction they had just come from, Rick went back the way they had come last night – the direction Daryl never meant to go into again.    
Each time a car approached, he dug behind a tree or bush, anxious to stay out of the driver’s sight. He still felt that tingling sensation in the back of his neck, the fear of being followed and he should long since have left the state. Instead he was playing hide and seek in the woods with Rick. He felt torn. Torn between the urge to get into his car and just leave Rick standing right now, and the wish to never leave that man again. 

         “Over here!” 

Rick waved to him and when Daryl had closed the distance between them, he saw the other man standing next to what used to be a light green Honda Civic. It had gone off the road and down a shallow slope to end up against a tree about nine feet below street level. The front had been bashed in hard enough to inflate the airbags and Daryl cast his companion a wide-eyed look.

         “Ya been _drivin’_ as shitfaced as ya was? Man, yer guardian angel musta been workin’ overtime last night.”

         “And so will the guy at the fucking insurance company when I report this”, Rick grumbled, while he gave the front tire a frustrated kick.

         “That story better be good. Ya can’t tell ‘em ya been drinkin’ ‘n’ drivin’ or they ain’t gonna pay no single dime.”

Again Rick kicked the poor, misfortunate car and let out a suppressed scream.

         “And you know what? I don’t even give a damn! Fucking car’s broken, so I can’t go home. Fucking cell’s broken, so I can’t call home, either. And the worst thing is – I don’t even know if I’d wanna do either.”

Daryl watched him run his hands through his curls in a helpless, agitated gesture and pressed his lips together. He had a cell on him, could have offered Rick to use it to call his wife, but he kept quiet. Maybe because while Rick had his doubts, Daryl knew for sure that he didn’t want him to go or call home. Not if the person there caused him so much pain.   
He would have liked to offer Rick to come back to his place till he had figured out where to go and what to do next, but Daryl didn’t _have_ a place. And he didn’t know where to go and what to do next, either.    
The curly-haired man circled his car once and when he stood next to Daryl again, he looked around with an entirely lost look in his eyes.

         “It’s all gone”, he croaked. “My damn cell, the fucking car … my entire life. All hopes and dreams and plans …”    
His sight started to blur.    
         “I’ve wasted the best years of my life.”

         “Nah. Bet there was happy years, too. And those ain’t wasted. And the others, those ya spent with the wrong person, they was hardly yer best. Find someone new. Someone who suits ya better ‘n’ who loves ya just the way ya are. Start over ‘n’ then yer best years are still ta come.” 

Find someone. Start over. That sounded so simple, yet Daryl hadn’t managed to take but a spoonful of his own medicine in all the years he was out here. But Rick wasn’t like him. Rick was a decent man. He had been faithful to one and the same person for … what? Twenty years? More? Stupid bitch!    
Daryl wasn’t surprised that no one would want someone like him. But Rick? There would probably be a line as soon as word got out that he was back on the market. He’d find someone, be happy again, and he deserved no less. 

Rick’s deep sigh pulled him out of his thoughts.

         “Find someone. Don’t know if I want anyone else. We … God, I can’t believe there is no ‘we’ anymore … we had so many dreams and plans. In all these years we’ve been working to save money and build a home. Have been renovating that stupid old house, wanted to do some traveling later, talked about kids … _Later_. Damn, I’m pushing forty and I’ve never even seen the ocean. Dig that. And now I can’t even go, because the fucking car is broken. It’s all broken. It’s all …”

He had started to babble, his words coming fast and faster while his voice grew more agitated by the moment. Tears welled in his eyes now and started falling unhindered. Rick didn’t even feel them run down his cheeks.   
Hesitatingly Daryl reached out and gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze, then he threw all caution to the wind and unceremoniously wrapped his arms around Rick to pull him into a tight hug. The other man tensed up for just a short moment, but then he leaned into the embrace, buried his face on Daryl’s shoulder and cried silently.    
          
They stood like that for a few minutes – Rick releasing his pain, while Daryl held him close and indulged in the contact. He felt good and bad at the same time and was fighting with his contradicting emotions. Was it wrong to savor a hug that was initiated by someone else’s sorrow? Was it wrong to _need_ that hug, probably even more than the one it was meant for? Was it wrong to hope that the suffering person would need to cry a while longer, just so it wouldn’t end?   
Daryl couldn’t even remember the last time anyone had given him a hug. Probably before Merle died. His big brother used to hug him, let him ride piggy-back when he was little, dandled him on his knees as a toddler, let him sleep in his bed when the closet monsters and the boogieman had scared him. Daryl had been fifteen when Merle went away for good – so for twenty-two years straight nobody had bothered to hug him, offered but a single tender gesture or a loving word.   
So was it bad to hunger for it, to want a simple hug so badly that it hurt? 

When Rick released him and took a step back, Daryl felt a terrible feeling of loss and would have wanted to pull the man right back into his arms. If only he could.

         “Sorry”, Rick said, taking great interest in the tips of his shoes. “I barely know you and didn’t mean to dump this on you.”

         “‘s okay. No big deal.”  
Daryl tried to keep his inflection nonchalant and was surprised how well that worked. Obviously he had developed quite a skill in pretending.   
         “So, whadda ya wanna do? We passed a gas station a few miles back. Wanna have yer car towed? Maybe call someone – a friend ta pick ya up?”

         “I wanna see the ocean.” 

The answer took Daryl totally aback.

         “Yeah, well, can’t see it from here, man, so what’s it gonna be?”

Rick sighed and just shrugged, before he slumped down next to his car and leaned against the driver’s door, staring blindly ahead of himself. Daryl had never before seen anyone who had so completely lost his way. Not even when he had looked at his own mirror image.            
He slowly sat down by Rick’s side, leaning his own back against the front tire and waited, in case Rick meant to say something more. When his companion remained quiet, Daryl started chewing on his thumbnail, fighting against a wave of guilt that had washed over him unexpectedly.   
It was one thing to know that someone might get hurt when getting involved with a married person, but it was something completely different actually _seeing_ all the pain that was caused by it. Rick’s heartache wasn’t on him and he hadn’t been the one cheating, yet he felt guilty, felt the incredible urge to shield this man from the world, from all the bad experiences and memories. 

         “I didn’t know what they could do”, he said softly. “The others, I mean. People like me.”  
          
         “It’s not on you. Don’t worry about it.”

         “Still, anything I can do?”  
          
         “Yeah. Take me back to town or any other place where I can get a drink.”

Daryl’s eyebrows went up to his hairline, while he cast the younger man a side glance.

         “How about coffee?”   
          
         “How about a drink?” Rick insisted stubbornly.

         “Ya wanna _walk_ to town then?” Daryl asked challengingly.

         “Is that blackmail?”

         “Nah, I get commissions at _Starbucks_.” Daryl rolled his eyes. “Yeah, it’s blackmail. Still – yer call.”

They stared at each other in a silent combat, then Rick averted his eyes and looked up at the few pieces of blue sky he was able to see through the colorful canopy of autumn leaves. 

         “How about both?” he tried a diplomatic approach. “Just one drink and then we go for coffee. Okay?” 

Daryl thought about that proposal for a moment, then he got up and said   
         “Hold up”,  
before he walked back to his car.

A moment later he returned with a six-pack of beer and lowered himself to Rick’s side once again. Wordlessly he held one can out to Rick and then opened another one for himself.

         “Ain’t the real heavy stuff, but it’s only 10 a.m., man, and the residual alcohol in yer blood would prob’ly still have the cops’ breathalyzer go off the scale.” 

The joke fell flat and wasn’t able to light Rick’s mood at all. On the contrary – it seemed to triggered new sadness and the younger man popped the can a little too eager for 10 a.m. and took a large swig. 

         “Thanks”, he said toneless. 

They sat silently next to each other for a few more sips, then Rick picked up:

         “Sorry for holding you up, by the way. Guess you were going someplace last night, when you … well, sort of ran into me.”

         “ _You_ ran into me actually”, Daryl replied with the ghost of a smile. “’n’ don’t worry ‘bout it – ain’t nowhere I gotta be. I’m just … passin’ through, I guess.”

         “Huh”, Rick acknowledged the information. “You’re always _passing through_ with a six-pack in your trunk?” 

         “Yup.” Daryl took another swig and leaned back against the car, looking thoughtful up to the road where his car was parked.  
         “I’m travelin' a lot. Gets lonely. This … “, he nodded at the can in his hand, “this helps, sometimes.”

Rick cast him a questioning side glance.

         “So, you’re a traveling salesman or something?”

Daryl almost spat his beer.  
          
         “Yeah, right.”

         “Whadda you selling?”

         “Stuff.” He shrugged. “Things.”   
_ “Me”,  _ he added mentally with a cold feeling settling in the pit of his stomach. 

         “You like being mysterious, huh?”

Rick had finished his beer and placed the can on the ground next to him, holding his hand out wordlessly in the unspoken request for another one.

         “Nah”, Daryl answered to the comment, while he reached for the six-pack, “guess there’s just things people don’t really wanna know ‘bout.”

Before Rick could reply to that, Daryl handed him another beer he had already popped and, gently nudging the other man’s shoulder, went:

         “Cheers, Jack.”

         “Rick.”

         “Yeah, I know. ‘s just …” He actually blushed. “Ya know, before I knew yer name, last night, I named ya Jack. Sort a’ seemed ta match, since ya … well, hit the road ‘n’ all.”

Rick pulled a face in a _you-gotta-be-kidding-me_ kind of way. 

“And ya was definitely friends with Jack Daniels. Also says ‘Jack’ on yer jacket there. The name was just all over the place – and, like I said, I thought it matched.”

For a moment Rick just stared at Daryl, trying to figure out if he thought it was funny that the guy gave him just any name that seemed appropriate or if this was the dumbest thing he’d ever heard.   
In the end he decided that it was neither.   
This man not only invested lots of his time to take care of him, he also pondered over a proper _name_ , for whatever reason. He could have just left last night, abandoned him to his own devices. Or dumped him somewhere, so that the next person to find him would have had to deal with “John Doe”. Yet he was caring enough to take him to a dry and safe place, took care of his wound and made sure Rick could sleep it off. And he was still here now, going out of his way to help Rick, lent a sympathetic ear to his sorrows and shared his beer with him. What kind of person would do all that? And why?   
Rick suddenly felt incredibly touched by what this man had done for him and a smile slowly found its way onto his face.

         “Jack’s cool. If you like that name better than Rick – fine with me.” He shrugged with a smirk. “It’s just kinda unfair, you know. You’ve got two names to call me by now and I still don’t know yours.” 

Daryl looked at him sheepishly for a second. He had totally forgotten about that. 

         “Daryl”, he replied, touching his can of beer to Rick’s. “Ma name’s Daryl Dixon.” 


	8. Chapter 8

Rick felt better when he relaxed into the passenger seat of Daryl’s car as they were driving back to the little town where they had stayed the night.  
His head still felt as though it was ready to explode, but either the beer’s numbing effect had taken the edge off the pain – or Daryl had.

It wasn’t easy to deal with all the things the man had told him. His point of view on why people cheated – the point of view as one of _the others_ , as he had put it.  
It had sounded as though Daryl had quite some expertise on the subject and Rick couldn’t help wondering how many people he had been intimate with – and how many of them had been married.  
Rick felt like a naïve schoolboy all of a sudden. _One_. One notch on his bedpost, but up until now that had never bothered him. One was great, one was all he had needed, all he had wanted – his one and only.  
The stinging sensation returned to his eyes and he swallowed it back fiercely. Enough! It shouldn’t be _him_ crying over the loss of this once wonderful relationship. _He_ wasn’t the one losing a faithful, devoted and loving spouse after all.

          _“_ _Fact is – cheatin’ in most cases ‘s about sex, simple as that.”_  
Daryl’s words still echoed in Rick’s mind.   
         _“Maybe she’s got a couple a’ kinks, wants ta do stuff in bed she’s afraid ta ask of ya.”_  
          
_Kinks_. Kinks?!

_ “Or it’s just the thrill of bein’ with someone new, experimentin’, the kick a’ bein’ found out.” _

God, was it even possible to be married to someone for so long and yet know so little about them? Was he really such a bore, such a slouch in bed? Kinks! Like what …? 

Rick rubbed his hands over his face that actually felt hot to his own touch and cringed inwardly.   
Was he really blushing just _imagining_ some of the things Daryl might be referring to as ‘kinks’? Damn, he really _was_ a schoolboy. A 35-year-old uptight, oblivious, naïve and _boring_ schoolboy. Find someone new. Yeah, right. Like who would want a douche like him? 

         “Where d’ya wanna go?”

Daryl’s voice tore Rick out of his depressing thoughts and he cast a glance to the side. Despite the new pain the man’s words had caused, Rick was grateful to him – for his support, his honesty, his advice, the attempt to help, to make Rick understand and feel better.   
He had no idea who Daryl Dixon even was, where he came from and where he was going to and most importantly why he did all that he did. But despite him being a mystery, Rick liked him. There was something about him that made him feel at ease.   
Daryl didn’t exactly _look_ like a sensitive and caring person, but Rick had the feeling that underneath the somewhat rough exterior was a soft core.

         “Dunno”, he answered, sitting up straighter. “The diner again? Coffee was good.”

He massaged his temples in the hope to ease the dull ache in his skull, making a mental note to never, never, _never_ get that drunk again if it meant having a head twice its normal size the day after.   
The lines of pain on his face didn’t go unnoticed and Daryl watched him with concern out of the corner of his eye.

         “Maybe I had better take ya to a doctor. Looks like yer head’s givin’ ya trouble, huh?”

Rick waved the comment off.  
                    
         “It’s just a hangover. And like you said – I bumped my head pretty bad _hitting the road.”_  
Again he pulled a face about the bad pun.  
         “Guess some coffee’s gonna make it better and maybe that Andrea person has an Aspirin or something.”

A smile tugged on Daryl’s lips.

         “Way ya tipped her, she’s prob’ly gonna run ta the drugstore personally if she ain’t got no pills on her.”

The smile was mirrored on Rick’s face for a moment.

         “She just might. She was nice enough, food was good and she’s pretty, so I guess she deserved that tip. Don’t you think?”

         “’s yer money”, Daryl replied flatly, his mood darkening again.

When had he stopped looking for menial jobs that would earn him a few bucks even with his clothes still on? Serving meals and coffee – dumb job. He could do that. _Anybody_ could do that. Didn’t require a diploma or being the sharpest tool in the box. But it required being _nice_ and _pretty_ obviously and Daryl knew he was neither. 

         “Yer into blondes?” he picked up in order to end his own depressing train of thought.

Rick pulled in a deep breath before he shook his head.

         “No. I like brunettes.”

As if Daryl wouldn’t already know. He had seen her picture in Rick’s wallet after all, but he brought the topic up nevertheless. Maybe because preferences as far as sexual partners were concerned was a subject he could talk about at all – he had no knowledge about much of anything else. 

 

Andrea was both surprised and overjoyed when she saw her early morning customers return so soon and she was eager to find Rick the requested Aspirin right after she had poured them two more mugs of hot coffee.   
Only minutes after the two men had sat down and started to sip their beverage, she reappeared and placed a glass of water and two of the requested pills in front of Rick. 

         “That time of the month”, she commented and oddly enough it sounded like a question.

         “What?”

Rick looked at her with a frown and she blushed up to her hair roots. 

         “Er, no, I meant me … naturally. I mean, that’s why I have pain killer on me and … never mind. Dunno why I even brought that up.”

Again both men just stared at her wordlessly and had her reconsider her career choice for the umpteenth time that morning. First she asked them if they’d had a rough night and now _this._ It definitely wasn’t her day today.

         “Okay”, she sighed, “anything else I can do for you? A refill? Bring you some cake maybe? Shut up and wait for the ground to open and swallow me?”

The last comment made both men chuckle and with a lenient inflection Rick replied:

         “Cake sounds good.”

         “Fine. I’ve got some freshly baked apple pie. It’s on the house.” 

Shaking her head to herself she hurried to get the offered pie and Daryl watched her quick retreat for a moment, a thoughtful air on his face.

         “Looks like ya confusin’ that girl”, he commented, and it was hard to tell whether that amused or annoyed him. 

         “Yeah?”

That was all Rick replied while he stared into the dark liquid in his mug and stirred the spoon in it absentmindedly, although he had applied neither sugar, nor milk.   
He understood the intention behind Daryl’s comment. It was the attempt to point out to him that other mothers had beautiful daughters, too, and that he would easily find someone new, if he decided to get a divorce and start over. _If_ . Was it really that easy to forget decades of a shared life? _Should_ it even be that easy or shouldn’t it require some effort to mend things first? 

His headache increased with the disturbing thoughts and thus he pushed them back into a dark corner of his mind for the time being, while he reached for the Aspirin and water, and chose to change the subject.

“So”, he looked up at Daryl and leaned back in his seat, “what’s your story?”

The way Rick left the ball in his court made Daryl feel uncomfortable and he instantly averted his eyes and started nervously picking at the cuticle of his thumb instead.  

         “Whadda ya mean?”

Rick pointed at the black eye.

         “Looks like you’ve been in a little bit of trouble there yourself.”

Daryl gave a derisive snort.

         “Yeah, story a’ ma life. Don’t worry ‘bout it. Ain’t important.”  
          
He lifted his head and through his long bangs looked challengingly straight into Rick’s eyes. He didn’t like the turn this conversation had taken, but in the long run it would be impossible to keep everything about himself a secret. In the long run … Why was he even still fooling himself? There wouldn’t be a _long run_ as far as he and Rick were concerned, so it didn’t matter anyhow.

         “You filed a complaint or something?” the younger man asked. 

Daryl suppressed a humorless laugh. 

         “Yeah, or something. Hell, I could move in with the pigs if I went ta file a complaint each time some ass roughed me up.”

He saw the shock in Rick’s eyes, the questions he meant to ask and dared not – _“Why do you let them?”_ – and all of a sudden it _did_ matter after all. 

Just a moment ago he’d been ready to let Rick know who he was, what kind of life he led, figuring that they would go their separate ways some time later that day anyway and he was unlikely to ever see Rick again. So why bother keeping up appearances?  
But Rick cared. There was _concern_ in his eyes and for the first time ever since Merle died, someone worried about him, cared enough to even _ask._  
Even if they were going to say their good-byes later, he wanted Rick to remember him as the guy who saved his life, shared his beer with him, listened to his sorrow and chatted with him over a mug of coffee in a diner. The _good_ things.

         “I gotta go take a piss”, Daryl said unexpectedly and hurried towards the men’s room in the next second, almost running into Andrea, who was bringing their pie.

He slammed the door shut behind himself and then leaned on the sink, breathing heavily, while he looked at his reflection in the mirror the way he had done last night.   
Just once he wanted to be able to look at his mirror image and actually _like_ what he was seeing. 

It wasn’t the black eye that bothered him, that _marred_ him. And not even the pale, almost ashen complexion and dark circles under his eyes. It was the deep lines that shouldn’t even have been there yet and that made him look haggard, spent, _used._ Was he really not even forty years old? He sure looked it. His way of living was obviously burning up years fast and for a split second Daryl was almost grateful that it wouldn’t last another forty years then hopefully.   
How did it ever come to this?  
         When he had left his father and the old trailer park, the only thing he had taken along had been the clothes on his back, but that hadn’t worried him for a second back then. He’d been young, naïve and full of energy, of hopes, of dreams for a better life. It had even been fun in the beginning. He had loved the life out on the street – never in one place two days in a row, new towns, new people, countless menial jobs to get by, all one big adventure.   
Until the first winter came – when the days had been short, rainy and cold and the darkness frightening as soon as the stars were veiled by clouds and hadn’t been friends to keep him company anymore. There had been no fruits in the trees or berries to pick, potatoes or corn to steal from farmers’ fields. And then there had come a time that he was out of luck and no job was to be found anymore.  
That’s when the adventure had turned into a nightmare and freedom into loneliness. When having no home had stopped meaning having no chains attached, but meant having no roots. That winter he had noticed for the first time that a lone wolf didn’t have any friends when he needed them, and hunger, cold and fear were his only companions.   
But he’d been young, had always had broad shoulders, slim hips and intriguing narrow blue eyes that gave him an irresistible aura of danger. Men and women alike felt drawn to him – that was something he had noticed quite early, but hadn’t dared think beyond the obvious attraction. Until that night some guy had flashed a couple of bills for him to _accompany him._

Daryl sucked in the air as he stared at himself in the mirror.  
Who was he even fooling? He _was_ a whore. Had become one that night twenty years ago when he had allowed that man to do what he had done and even took money for it.   
He had made it through the first winter, but part of his soul had withered and died back then. A little more had crumbled each time he had dropped his pants and all reserves and limits along with them.   
As he’d grown older, he had learned to enjoy it although it hurt, although he had to give up control for the most part, although barely anyone ever looked him in the eyes and cared about who he was, what he felt, what he wanted, what he longed for. It was touch, company, at least for a while. He couldn’t expect more.   
Did Rick even realize how lucky he was? Things might be going south in his relationship currently, but for a long time there’d been someone who gave him their heart and soul and treasured his in return. Valued him for the man he was, for what was inside and not just for the parts below the waistline.  
Daryl hated to be reduced to no more than a cock and an ass, but those were the parts of him that people were interested in, that kept him alive.   
No one cared for his thoughts, for his feelings, for his hopes and dreams, few that he had at all. It wouldn’t pay for a roof over his head or food on his plate to hold someone’s hand, to caress and kiss tenderly.   
Apparently all that wasn’t part of the game. _Love hurts._ Wasn’t there even a song about that? So it was probably supposed to hurt. At least among gay men. From the looks of it, they only knew how to be rough with each other and raw, animalic sex was all it was about. 

_ Stupid bitch. _ He thought about the pretty, young woman in the picture inside of Rick’s wallet. Although she had hurt him so badly, he still loved her, still suffered her loss, still thought of her. Daryl couldn’t help thinking of the man’s soft white skin, of his gentle fingers, his bright blue eyes, the adorable wrinkles when he smiled, the sassy curls. There was an aura of sensibility and tenderness around that man, that drew Daryl to him like a moth to a flame. But that flame was entirely out of reach.   
Rick’s wife had it all and didn’t want it, while Daryl longed for it and could never have it.   
Fate was such a fucking bitch.

 

With a heavy sigh Daryl turned the faucet on and splashed cold water in his face, before he drew a couple of deep breaths to compose himself and returned to his and Rick’s table. 

Chewing on a mouthful of apple pie, Rick looked up to him with a relishing smile and said:

         “This is great! Sorry I started without you, but it just smelled too good to … You okay?” 

Daryl slipped back onto his seat in their booth and picked up his fork to try the pie, ignoring Rick’s concerned question. He swallowed the first piece, that could have been tar paper for all he cared, since he had completely lost his appetite, and after washing it down with a swig from his coffee he asked:

         “D’ya make up yer mind?”  
He saw the questioning look in Rick’s eyes and added:  
         “Wanna give her a call? Maybe she can come pick ya up or somethin’. Maybe ya guys can work it out.”

Rick dropped his fork and turned his head to look thoughtful out of the window, turning the ring on his finger again and again.

         “Why did you say ‘Hell no’ when I asked you if you’ve ever been married?” he asked unexpectedly. “You want me to fight for that marriage, but you don’t seem to believe in a happily ever after.”

         “Just think it’s worth a try. Better than bein’ alone. But yer right – I don’t believe in happily ever after. Can’t believe in nothin’ I’ve never seen.”

         “That’s actually the point in _believing._ Not knowing, no guarantees, just something in your heart to hold onto.”

He turned back to Daryl and met his look.

         “Sounds nice – havin’ someone ‘n’ all. Someone who cares, is there when ya need ‘em, gives ya a hand … Just never happened to me.”

         “You’ve never been in a relationship?”

         “Guess not. ‘s just not meant for me prob’ly.”

The cerulean orbs darkened with empathy.

         “Sorry.”

Daryl shrugged.

         “Don’t be. Since I‘s never in love or nothin’, I ain’t missin’ anythin’.”

The moment he heard his own words, he knew he was lying. To Rick and to himself alike.

         “You’ve never been in love at all?”

         “‘s like I said. Ain’t meant for me.” 

It was quiet for a moment while Rick looked away again, out of the window and into the sky, where a few harmless clouds were chased by a stiff autumn breeze. 

         “So, ya thinkin’ ‘bout goin’ back?” Daryl probed cautiously. “She’s pretty, ya know.”

Surprised Rick focused on him once again. 

         “Who?”

         “Jennifer Aniston.“ Daryl rolled his eyes. “Yer wife, man.”  
He looked down and started playing with the salt and pepper shakers on the table.   
         “Sorry, but … last night, when ya was still unconscious, I checked yer wallet for an I.D. to see who I’s dealin’ with.”  
A lie. Again.  
         “Saw her picture. She _is_ pretty.”

Tears pooled in Rick’s eyes suddenly and he swallowed thickly against the lump in his throat.

         “Lori. Her name is Lori.”

He fumbled in the back pocket of his pants and brought out a crinkled, torn piece of paper that he started to smooth down while he continued speaking.  
         “I think I need to be honest with you here now. It’s the least I owe you. Lori … She …She’s my baby sister. Was. She died three years ago.”  
He placed the piece of paper – a wrinkled picture – on the table in front of Daryl.  
“This is my husband – Shane.”  


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got so many wonderful, encouraging comments to chapter 8 and simply loved the sound of all those jaws hitting the ground (LoL), that you've earned yourselves an early update now.   
> Thanks again for all the feedback! It's highly appreciated. Hope you'll enjoy the rest of the story, too.

It was deadly quiet in the diner all of a sudden, as though the world had come to a standstill, while Daryl sat frozen in his seat and just stared at Rick with his mouth gaped open. Then, unexpectedly he jumped to his feet and ran outside without saying a single word.  
He started pacing the sidewalk, his thoughts and emotions in an uproar, while he fumbled for his pack of smokes. Then he slumped down onto the steps of the diner, cursing under his breath when the lighter wouldn’t spark quickly enough. He dragged on the cigarette hungrily and tried to will his hands to stop shaking, while he digested the bombshell Rick had just dropped.

He was gay!   
That man, who was crying over the loss of his spouse and had been faithfully married for years, who appeared to be a gentle and caring soul – he was gay.   
The revelation turned Daryl’s world upside down. There hadn’t been a doubt in his mind that Rick and he would never be anything to each other, would part some time today and not even consider each other friends in the end. He had expected the man to return to the unfaithful bitch of a wife and maybe try to put things right. It was a lost cause pining for a hetero man. But now … The _unfaithful bitch_ wasn’t that pretty brunette girl, but a dude named Shane _. Shane._ That changed everything. 

He wasn’t aware of the fact that Rick was watching him through the window with a sad and hurt expression.   
This wasn’t the first time Rick had revealed to someone that he was gay and had watched them run after, and it probably wouldn’t be the last. Nevertheless, it never stopped hurting when it happened. He was both disappointed and surprised.   
He thought he had seen the signs that Daryl was swinging the other way, too. After all – a guy taking a good look at another dude’s junk usually was a very clear sign.   
But although Daryl hadn’t said a word now, his reaction spoke volumes. Another homophobic asshole, who had to digest that he’d spent the better part of a day – and a _night_ – with a queer. And the fact that he had spent that night butt naked in bed with that queer surely wasn’t an experience he was planning to tell his grandchildren about one day. 

Daryl didn’t know how long he’d been sitting there, lost in his confusing thoughts and the vortex of his emotions, when a shadow next to him startled him. When he looked up, he saw Rick standing on the steps next to him, running a hand through his curls and sighing deeply.   
Rick was surprised to still find the man out here at all and not having to watch the taillights of his car disappear into the distance. 

         “Sorry. I know I should have said something earlier. You kept referring to my _wife_ … I should have told you. It’s just – I needed someone to talk to and you were there to listen, so I didn’t mean to scare you off.”

When Daryl didn’t answer, he gave a curt nod that was barely able to hide his hurt feelings.

         “Thanks again for all you’ve done.”

That said Rick started walking away with sagging shoulders and an incredible sadness in his eyes. He was stranded in this town and needed to look for a way out, without knowing where to go at all.   
Home. The place he had lived with Shane, the place where they had built a life together and where he had wanted to die one day – that didn’t even feel like home anymore. Having to look his husband in the eyes, _knowing_ that he had been with someone else, that Rick hadn’t been enough after all they’d been through together, hurt him so profoundly that he couldn’t bear the thought of going back. Not yet.   
The only family he had had was Lori. And she was gone. He was alone all of a sudden, had no one.   
The next moment he flinched when someone appeared right next to him and a warm, strong hand got hold of his own.

         “C’mon.” 

Daryl pulled Rick along and the younger man was momentarily too stunned to even wonder about the hand-holding or ask where they were going.   
Daryl headed straight for his car, opened the passenger side door and gently but firmly pushed Rick inside. Before there was even a chance on protest, Daryl had already climbed in, too, had started the engine and drove down the street. 

“Mind telling me where we’re going?”

“It’s a surprise.” 

After that he didn’t say anything more.   
Rick leaned back into his seat and found he didn’t really care where they were going. _Anywhere_ was better than what he used to call home and his heart grew lighter when he cast a glance to the man next to him. The guy who had saved his _sorry ass_ and apparently didn’t mind that it was a gay ass.  
The Aspirin was numbing the sharp pain behind his forehead and had reduced it to a dull throb, but it was still there. As they kept on driving in silence, Rick felt his eyes fall shut time and again and it grew harder with each passing moment to force them back open. He lost the fight in the end and fell asleep, his head rolling to the side and coming to rest against the frame of the passenger door, while Daryl drove on with a smile playing around his lips. 

 

Rick woke to a hand being placed on his shoulder and shaking gently, and he slowly and reluctantly opened his eyes.   
He had no idea how long he had slept, but he would have liked to just sleep some more, wrapped in the peaceful blanket of obliviousness, unbothered by all his pain – the one in his head as well as the one in his heart.   
He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and sat up, drowsily casting a look at the man sitting next to him.

         “Where are we?” he slurred, when he saw a smile spread over Daryl’s face as he pointed at the windshield.

The moment Rick looked outside he was instantly wide awake and almost hit his head on the ceiling when he sat up straight as a pole.   
          
         “Oh, my God”, he just muttered slowly, while he opened the door and got out. 

The salty smell of the ocean breeze and the cry of a seagull greeted him, accompanied by the sound of the waves rolling onto the sandy beach. The wind tousled his curls and he thought he could feel the sea spray on his face.  
         As though he was in a trance, Rick stumbled towards the ocean with tears in his eyes, looking at the endless, deep blue surface that glittered in the afternoon sun right before him.   
He breathed in deep and felt as though all worries just fell off of him and were washed away for the time being. This was the most beautiful, most overwhelming thing he had ever seen and an immense wave of happiness washed over him, made his heart light and brought a wide smile to his face.  
When he noticed Daryl show up beside him, Rick turned to him and gave him an enthusiastic hug, unable to express his joy and thankfulness any other way.  
The next second he pulled back with an embarrassed air and lowered his eyes.

         “Sorry. Didn’t mean to …”

He never got to finish his sentence when Daryl leaned in unexpectedly, and kissed him. It was a soft, almost chaste touch of their lips, feather-light and tender. Nothing sexual or stunningly passionate, just a gesture of affection.

         “Ain’t gonna apologize, just so ya know”, Daryl commented calmly after he had taken a step back. 

That said he turned on his heels and slowly strolled down the beach, indulging in the feel of the sun on his face, the wind in his hair and the lingering sensation of Rick’s lips on his.   
The younger man fell in beside him a moment later.

         “You should have told me you were playing on the same team.”

         “Ya know now.”

The ghost of a smile flashed over Rick’s face while he cast a side glance at Daryl. 

         “You’ve got an interesting way of letting people know you.”

         “Think so?”

         “Absolutely. You like being mysterious for the most part and then you kiss people right before you share pretty personal stuff about you?”

         “Something wrong with that?”

Rick laughed out loud.

         “Not at all. I bet whoever knows you, loves you just for that.”

         “Yeah, well, ‘s just – nobody knows me. Ain’t no one ever given no damn.”

He pressed his lips together and picked up his pace, when he noticed Rick’s concerned look out of the corner of his eyes.   
Damn. He slipped, hadn’t intended to say anything like that. He didn’t want Rick to ask, probe deeper for information about him that Daryl just couldn’t give him.   
He cared for this man, more than he ever thought possible, more than he was able to explain or comprehend after knowing him for such a short period of time. He savored each moment Rick was with him and there was at least a chance now. He was probably getting his hopes up way too high that Rick could some day be _Jack_ , his dream lover, the man by his side who’d make a difference. It was still all a dream, but however unlikely, it wasn’t entirely out of reach anymore.  
The revelation what kind of life Daryl led, what kind of person he was, of all the ugly little details of his past, would most certainly have Rick turn away from him in disgust. 

         **_“_** _Might just as well tell him yer just a fuckin’ whore, boy”,_ his father’s voice echoed in his mind. _“Gay or not – guy like that is outta yer league. And he’s still married. Ain’t no decent man gonna give up_ anything _for_ you. _”_

A few steps behind him, Rick thoughtfully watched Daryl’s back as he followed him, wondering what had triggered the latest bitter comment, what exactly the man was referring to.   
A mystery engulfed his companion – he was hiding something, had things on his mind and on his soul that yearned to be brought out into the open, yet Daryl didn’t trust anyone enough to dare talk about those secrets, whatever they were. Something slipped now and then. Details that spoke of a sad and lonesome life, of things Daryl might have seen or done that weighed heavily and burdened him, while he longed for someone to share the load. Repeatedly Daryl had taken a step towards him, only to retract instantly. Had opened up and then closed up again like a clam.   
Rick walked faster and caught up with the other man after a couple of large steps.  
          
         “Works both ways, you know”, he said gently. “The talking and listening.” 

He didn’t say any more, didn’t even look at Daryl, just let it stand like this, but he knew that Daryl had heard him. 

They took a long stroll on the beach, walking shoulder to shoulder without a single word being spoken. They were both wrapped up in thoughts, but the mood wasn’t dark or depressed. They enjoyed the other one’s presence and felt a sense of peace and freedom when looking out onto the ocean.   
Rick still could barely believe that he was finally here. All the years with Shane they had talked so many times about just going, just for a day, just because – but never had. It had taken a perfect stranger to not just talk, but simply _do_ it and make a dream come true for Rick. 

The beach was deserted. There was no one else around and they had only met very few people during their walk. It just wasn’t the season and people living by the seaside probably didn’t feel the need to see the ocean each and every day. It was normal to them, nothing out of the extraordinary, nothing that was still breathtaking and overwhelming, so why bother to leave the house on a chilly autumn day?  
Rick couldn’t imagine ever growing tired of this sight. It was so damn beautiful that his heart ached with the joy of being able to see it and the thought of having to leave again.

When it started to grow darker, Rick pointed to a two-story beach house that sat on a little hill overlooking the ocean. It had blue wooden siding and white window shutters, a large porch towards the beach with two invitingly looking rocking chairs sitting on it – and a sign up that read _‘Rooms’_.

         “Mind staying here a night? I don’t wanna go back yet. It’s so beautiful and peaceful here. And I’d like to see the sun set over the ocean.”

Daryl suppressed a smirk.

         “Rick, this ‘s the Atlantic. Ya can watch the sun come _up_ , but the sucker still sets in the west. Sorry.”

Rick grinned at him, before he looked back over the smooth surface of the sea.

         “Either way. I’d love to see _the sucker_ come up tomorrow just the same.”  
“Please”, he added softly after a short pause.

         “’kay. Ain’t got nowhere else ta be.”

In fact, they had crossed the state line on the way and Daryl figured he was away far enough for starters. 

When they approached the house, they noticed that it had seen better days. The paint was chipping off in various spots, some of the flyscreens had holes in them and two of the shutters hung crookedly attached to loose angles. 

         “Ya really wanna stay here?” Daryl asked cautiously and saw Rick cast him a meaningful look.

         “Excuse me, but compared to the dump you picked last night, this is a mansion.”

         “Nag, nag, nag“, Daryl teased, but had to admit that Rick was right. 

They walked around the building and knocked on the front door, but nobody answered. After Rick had knocked again, Daryl noticed a sign next to the door and pointed to it with a grin. It read:  
          
         _Stop knocking – door’s open. Just come on in._

As soon as they had entered, they stood right in what seemed to be the living room and a wonderful warmth and the smell of freshly brewed coffee greeted them. There was a fire crackling in the fireplace and two orange colored shade lamps bathed the room in a warm, subtle light. The sofa with the plushy cushions, the curtains and carpets did look a little worn and matched the condition of the rest of the house, but it was tidy and looked friendly and inviting.

         “Hello?” Rick called into the house.   

         “Hello yourself”, the voice of an old man answered and a moment later the owner of the house came shuffling toward them, bowed over a cane and on rather unsteady feet.   
         “You been knocking?”

It appeared as though there was a slightly chiding inflection to the man’s voice and Rick blushed.

         “Er, yes, sorry about that. We saw the sign too late.”

         “Tourists”, he man muttered, but there was a smile tugging on his lips. “What can I do for you, fellows?” 

         “We saw the sign that you’ve got rooms to rent.”

         “Yes, yes”, the old man nodded, while he adjusted the glasses on his nose. “But there was a pipe break last week, so I’m afraid I only have one room available at the moment. If you boys don’t mind sharing.” 

Rick cast Daryl a questioning side glance and saw the other man give him a meaningful look.   
          
         “Ya already been sleepin’ in ma bed butt naked ‘n’ stabbed me with yer erection. I think we’re acquainted enough ta share a room”, he whispered to Rick and suppressed a grin, when Rick’s ears turned a deeper shade of red. 

The old man slowly shuffled to a key box that hung on a nearby wall to get their room key. 

“Sure hope you knew what to do with that boner, lad”, he commented dryly, which had Rick’s blush even deepen. “And by the way, I’m wearing hearing aids.”

He gave the two young men a scrutinizing look and then muttered to himself:  
         “Guess I best turn them off tonight.”        

He made a gesture to follow him, while Daryl suppressed a chuckle. He didn’t need hearing aids to understand what the old man had muttered and Rick was downright adorable when he blushed like a teenager on his first date.   
The old man led the way to their room, which was in back of the house on ground level, facing the ocean.   
A queen size bed covered by a pretty blue quilt sat against the wall opposite the window, so that the ocean could be seen without having to leave the bed. The room had a wall closet, a comfortable looking armchair sitting in the far right-hand corner and a dressing table to the left, where a door let to an adjoining bathroom. The place was small, yet cozy and clean and instantly both Rick and Daryl felt comfortable here.   
Through the window they were able to see the two rocking chairs out on the porch and Daryl noticed the longing look on his companion’s face – Rick wouldn’t be able to watch the sun go down tonight, but to sit out on the porch, looking over the dark ocean canopied by a starlit night sky, that was all it took to make his first visit to the seaside perfect.  

         “The room’s perfect”, Rick told the old man with happily shining eyes and Daryl couldn’t help smiling, too, when he saw the shadows of sadness fade from the younger man’s face, at least for a while.

         “I best head back and get the car before it gets dark”, he let Rick know. 

         “Want me to come?” 

         _“Later”,_ the old man thought with a suppressed smirk, while Daryl replied:

         “Nah, make yerself comfy on the porch – ‘m gonna bring the beer. Save me a seat”, he joked. 

         “Will do.” 

Rick cast him a wide smile and for a moment they locked eyes and just felt _good_. They barely knew each other, yet together in this cozy little house by the beach, far away from all worries and problems, they suddenly considered each other friends.

 

It was almost dark when Rick heard a car pull into the driveway and a moment later Daryl came walking around the house and approached the porch, where Rick had been sitting and watching the ocean ever since his companion left.  
Daryl cast him a smile before lowering himself into the second rocking chair and handing Rick a can of beer. He pulled two more from the pockets of his jacket and sat them on the floor between them, going:

         “’s the rest. I gotta restock tomorrow.”

         “Huh, I know. You need to have a six-pack in the trunk for traveling, right?”

         “Right”, Daryl gave an affirmative nod, while his smile slowly faded. 

He didn’t want to think about leaving. Not just this place, but most importantly Rick. He enjoyed the younger man’s presence way too much, started to get emotionally too attached for his own good. Daryl was totally aware of that, without the blonde girl reminding him. Where was she anyway?   
He hadn’t heard from her all day, but whatever she’d have to say – she was right. Deep down inside he knew he was fooling himself.  
Rick would have to go back to where Daryl couldn’t follow. For him it was moving on as soon as possible, tomorrow or the day after, and then Rick Grimes wouldn’t be part of his life anymore. For the rest of his days he would be no more than a wonderful memory and a fantasy of what could have been. 

Gritting his teeth, Daryl reached for one of the cans and popped it, before holding it out to Rick to clink their drinks together. 

         “Cheers.”

         “Yeah, cheers. To the ocean.” 

Rick took a large swig and then they sat silently for a while, just listening to the rolling of the waves and looking out onto the dark waters that glistened by the light of a full moon. 

“Can’t believe ya ain’t never been to the beach before. It was just a four-hour drive.”  
          
    “We just never took the time. There was always more important things to do. It just didn’t happen.” Rick took another swig. “You been around a lot?”

Unseen to him, Daryl’s expression darkened.

         “Yeah. I guess I’ve pretty much been in every state at least once – save for Hawaii. Flower garlands ‘n’ grass skirts cramp ma style, ya know.” 

Rick almost spat his beer laughing out loud and Daryl cast him a wide smile. He loved Rick’s laugh.  
When the younger man had composed himself, he replied:

         “Must be great. Traveling, I mean. Seeing other places and …”

         “Every medallion’s got two sides”, Daryl cut in before Rick would get too enthusiastic. “Bein’ on the road like all the time, havin’ been everywhere ‘n’ nowhere, never stayin’ for long … ‘s a lonely life. Ya can never make friends without losin’ ‘em again right away. And ya got no place ta call home.”

Rick cast him a sympathetic side glance.

         “Doesn’t sound as though you like it too much.”

         “I did. Once. But things changed … I dunno. Maybe ‘m just gettin’ too old for this shit.”

         “Uh-huh. That’s funny, but I’ve been thinking the same thing just the other day. About being in the same town year in, year out, never going anywhere, never seeing anything new, just watching the world out there turn without me. Can’t tell you how many times I asked Shane to just go on a trip someplace, but … he kept postponing it.”  
His inflection grew bitter.  
         “Guess I know now what kept him so busy.”

When the mood threatened to take a turn for the worse, Daryl placed his hand gently on Rick’s arm to give it a reassuring squeeze, lifting the younger man’s spirit instantly.

         “Want the last beer?” Daryl ask, nodding to the can on the floor between their chairs, but Rick shook his head.

         “You have it. I had my share.”

         “Nah, I’m good. ‘m gonna save it – for when I really need it. Or you.” 

He pulled his hand back and for another silent moment they just looked out into the night.

         “You like the mountains better or the ocean?” Rick asked unexpectedly.

         “Ocean”, Daryl replied without even having to give the question some thought. 

    “Why?” 

    “Ocean’s ma brother”, Daryl replied mystically. “We’re related souls. It looks calm on the surface, but if ya look closely ya see it’s always in motion, always in a turmoil, never steady as the mountains. And it can change from one moment to the next, unpredictable, hiding secrets in its depths.”

    “Wow”, Rick commented with wide eyes. “That sounds very mysterious.”

“I guess.”

“And dangerous.”

He cast a glance at the other man’s silhouette, but despite what Daryl just said and the certainty that this man in fact was hiding something, did have the secrets he mentioned, Rick didn’t feel threatened. For a reason unknown to him, he trusted Daryl. 

“Problem with the mountains is”, Daryl continued, “that they’re just too much like ma fuckin’ life. A constant struggle ta get to the top ‘n’ then, when ya think yer finally there, ya notice there’s more. There’s always more. ‘s going down hill again just when ya thought ya’ve made it ‘n’ then ya need ta start over again. It never stops.”

He breathed in deep and let out the air with a sigh.

         “There’s just always one more mountain left to climb.”  


	10. Chapter 10

When it became too chilly to sit outside, they went to their room.   
Daryl took his shoes and socks off and tossed them unceremoniously into a corner by the armchair, which earned him a raised eyebrow from Rick, but went uncommented. While Rick placed his own shoes and socks neatly side by side next to the mess Daryl had left, the older man pulled his sweater over his head and tossed it over Rick’s head onto the chair. The second eyebrow was lifted.

         “Do I wanna know what your place looks like?”

         “What place?” Daryl answered flatly and then pointed at the bed. “Which side a’ the bed ya want?”

Instantly Rick pointed to the right, his lips pressed tightly together.

         “Huh, like last night then?” Daryl shrugged. “Fine with me. Ya always take that side?”

         “No. Never. Used to sleep on the left side, but not anymore. Never again.”

The answer came with way more fierceness than he had intended and Daryl cast him a surprised glance.  
          
         “Made up yer mind then?”

         “No. Don’t know. Maybe. It’s just … I just can’t sleep … you know, as usual, like it’s always been. As though … as though he was …”

         “‘s alright, Rick. Whatever.” Daryl said soothingly when the younger man’s voice cracked and Rick was at a lack for words once again. 

They took turns in the small adjoining bathroom and were more than grateful to find quite a nice supply of toiletries waiting for them, such as toothbrushes and toothpaste, shampoo, soap and combs. Whether those things were a regular courtesy of the house or the old man figured they were in dire need of them, they couldn’t tell and accepted the favor without questioning it.   
They were both very well aware of the fact that they looked like bums by now. After the accident and the night out in the rain Rick’s change of clothes in the backpack looked little better than the clothes he was wearing, and Daryl didn’t even have a change of clothes. So next to a new six-pack of beer they had best shop for new things to wear first thing tomorrow. But tomorrow was another day. 

When Daryl came out of the bathroom, wearing just his boxers, he found Rick already snuggled up under the covers and only the lamp on Daryl’s nightstand still alight. The younger man lay on his side, facing Daryl and watching calmly as his companion slipped under the covers and turned the light off. 

         “Ready?” Daryl ask and had to grin to himself when he heard Rick suck in the air.

         “For what?”

         “Just thought maybe ya wanna say yer prayers or tell me a bedtime story.”

         “Idiot.” 

Daryl suppressed a chuckle and then stretched his legs with a content sigh. There was nothing like lying down after a long day. He tried not to think of the previous night when he had stripped Rick of his clothes and had run his fingers over the soft, warm skin of his chest, his nipples, the solid stomach muscles, down to …

         “Good night”, Rick’s voice tore him back into the here and now and made him swallow when he noticed that he had almost started drooling.

         “Night, Jack”, he teased and could almost see the smile that flashed over Rick’s face.

They lay silently side by side for a while, not touching, just trying to ban all thoughts and worries from their minds in order to relax.  
Daryl was surprised to be as calm as he was. He knew that the few miles he had covered today might not be sufficient, that he may still be in danger and had best run way further than he had, but he refused to worry about that tonight. He felt too good, just having Rick this close by. After his fear of having to say good-bye for good that day, it was a blessing that the man was still there with him and Daryl didn’t want to spoil a single second with worries.  
Rick for his part tried to ban Shane from his mind. Tried not to see his husband’s deep brown eyes and the loving smile he used to cast Rick, or to think of all the times he had run his fingers through Shane’s thick dark hair. All these years, all they had had, all they had _been_ to each other – betrayed. Tossed away as though they had never meant anything.   
Daryl heard a suppressed sob next to him and reached out a hand to gently place it on Rick’s arm beneath the covers, giving it a few soothing strokes. 

         “Ya still love him?”

         “I try not to.”

No more was said and after a moment Daryl pulled his hand back when there were no more sobs. They listened to the sound of the ocean outside their window and each other’s soft breathing.   
Daryl tried to relax, but the warmth he felt radiate off Rick’s body made his pulse rate pick up. This was the second time this gorgeous man was in bed right there with him, yet Rick didn’t expect a thing, didn’t demand a thing, didn’t force him to do a thing. He was just there, so close. 

         “I stole fifty bucks from yer wallet ‘n’ yer money paid for that shithole last night, too”, he said unexpectedly into the stillness.

         “I know.”

By the twilight of the full moon Daryl looked surprised at the shadowy features of the other man. 

         “How?

         “I can count. Know how much money was in there before.”

         “Why didn’t you say anything?”

         “I figured you would, if it was important. And it wasn’t till now, I suppose.”

         “Makes ya think it’s important now?”

         “Cause you’re bringing it up. Guess you have a reason, huh?”

Daryl hesitated for a moment, then he replied softly:

         “Just thought ya should know. Don’t want no lies ‘n’ stuff between us.”

         “We barely know each other. Only met yesterday.”

         “Don’t mean nothin’. Ya’ve known that Shane dude for most a’ yer life ‘n’ still ya don’t _know_ him. There was lies between the two of ya, and I … I want things for us ta be different.”

Rick raised his eyebrows in surprise.

         “Us?”

Unexpectedly Daryl inched closer and pecked Rick’s lips. Then he waited for the younger man’s reaction without drawing back.

“What are you doing?” Rick croaked.

“What’s it feel like?”

Daryl’s face was still only few inches away from Rick’s and the younger man felt the warm breath on his skin like a feather-light caress. Gentle fingers started combing through his hair, played with the curls in his nape and gave teasing little strokes to his neck, sending a shiver down Rick’s spine.

         “Ya really never fucked with anyone else than him?” Daryl whispered in his ear.

         “No.” Rick’s voice was hoarse.

         “Wanna?”

Rick swallowed thickly against a lump in his throat, wondering why he even considered the offer.

         “Despite everything … I’m still married”, he said, wondering for a moment if that was what his heart told him to say or his conscience.

         “Yeah, so’s he. Didn’t stop him.”

         “I made a promise and that means something to me.”

Daryl stopped playing with Rick’s hair and pulled back.

         “Huh. I respect that. Don’t get it though, ‘cause I think yer not bound to that promise no more – that vow was already broken. But – yer call.”

He scooted back and could barely hold back a deep, regretting sigh.   
This was new, a feeling he had never known before. A longing deep down inside that made him feel itchy, instilled him with the urge to touch Rick like he never wanted to touch anybody else. Daryl felt as though he was overwhelmed by an incredible thirst all of a sudden and only this man was able to still it, as though Rick was the life-saving water he needed right now.   
Need. Want. Those were emotions Daryl had never known. He had never needed or wanted anyone or anything – not like this.   
But Rick didn’t want him, wouldn’t let him touch him, caress, kiss, fuck him.  
Daryl gasped when just the thought had him grow hard and he pressed his lips together in frustration.   
He had to get out of here. Best took a cold shower or a long walk in the cool night air. Anything. For a moment he thought of how all those men he’d been with had always just taken what they wanted and he had let them, thinking this was how it was supposed to be. He had never known it any other way and his frustration mixed with fear suddenly when he couldn’t tell for sure what he was able to do.   
Just when he moved to get up and leave this room as quickly as only possible, he felt Rick inch closer unexpectedly and wrap one arm around him, holding him in place.

         “Stay.”

Soft lips found Daryl’s neck and started to leave feather-light kisses there, before suddenly more pressure was applied and Rick started kissing his way along the jawline towards the older man’s mouth.

         “What are ya doin’?” Daryl asked with a smile tugging on his lips, using Rick’s previous words.  
          
         “What’s it feel like?” Rick pressed his lips to Daryl’s and nibbled on his lower lip for a moment. “I’m changing my mind.”

         “Uh-huh, I can tell.”

Despite the stiff autumn breeze making the shutters rattle and the wind hauling around the house, leaving the unheated bedroom kind of chilly, both men felt hot suddenly.   
A silent battle was raging inside of Rick, while he entwined his fingers in Daryl’s long hair.   
He felt torn, knew that he shouldn’t be doing this, that he made a vow, that a decent man wouldn’t even consider cheating. But the decent man placed his trust in the wrong person, had been betrayed and deceived and his faith had been spurned. Shane had made a fool of him. Shane. The guy Rick had been faithful to for as long as they had been together – he had trampled on their promise, on their bond. So screw him.   
Maybe this was cheap now – catching at the first guy’s offer and using the man to pay Shane in his own coin. Rick wasn’t going to make any promises and this wasn’t the start of something new, didn’t mean a thing. This was sex. No more, no less. Daryl knew all that and had _still_ offered this, so Rick shouldn’t even have second thoughts. Right?  
He remembered Daryl’s explanation for why people cheated – curiosity, the thrill of being with someone new, experimenting, the kick of being found out, kinks. Sure as hell wasn’t the latter as far as he was concerned, but as for the rest … Damn, yes, he wanted to see how it was with someone else, needed this right now to get all this frustration and anger out of his system, wanted to be able to look his husband in the eyes and tell him “I did it, too. So we’re even now”. He didn’t want to be the stupid, betrayed, _decent,_ innocent lamb, who stood by and just took it. 

When Daryl reached out a hand and combed his fingers through Rick’s hair, while he responded to the kiss, the younger man’s confidence staggered just slightly.

         “You been with a lot of men?” Rick whispered suddenly.

         “A few. That important?”

         “Shane was my one and only. And I couldn’t hold him, so apparently I suck in bed. Just thought you should know.”

         “And maybe the dude’s a dumbass ‘n’ that’s all”, Daryl said matter-of-factly, before he pecked the younger man’s lips.

Rick inched so close that their legs and feet touched and there wasn’t even a hand’s width of room left between the rest of their bodies. For a moment neither of them moved, then Rick pulled Daryl flush against him and filled the gap between them.   
The lean body pressed against Daryl’s more sturdy one and without a word being spoken they resumed their kissing, gentle at first, but soon with their tongues flicking out and being engaged in a sensual dance. It was a passionate, powerful battle for territory as their tongues snaked around each other and pushed to enter the other’s mouth, while their hands were roaming, exploring and caressing each spot of bare skin they were able to reach.   
Daryl felt as though his heart was about to burst out of his ribcage. Rick’s touches were so incredibly soft and yet strong and full of desire. Each stroke, each caress sent shivers through his entire body and had the little hairs stand on end.   
Rick’s tongue left Daryl’s mouth and traveled along his jawline and neck down to his chest, leaving a wet trail on its way before Rick’s lips closed around one of the sensitive nipples and started to suck and lick there in turns. Daryl arched his back when he felt a hand simultaneously stroke his already achingly hard cock through the fabric of his boxers.   
It was released from its confinement a second later, when Rick pulled the piece of clothing down and his fingers closed around the boner instantly. He covered Daryl’s lips with his own again, swallowing the whimpers and moans that escaped the older man while he thrust his hip up into Rick’s hand.   
Rick paused for only a moment to get rid of his own underwear and the next moment he was on top of Daryl, covering the other man’s entire body like a blanket, while he resumed his ardent kisses.   
Daryl tensed up the moment Rick’s weight pinned him down, and he held his breath. He knew what was to come next. Any second now a hard cock would forcefully push into him and claim his body, thrust, tear, hurt. It was always like that. 

         “You alright?” 

Daryl hadn’t even realized his eyes had been squeezed firmly shut and he opened them in surprise to Rick’s soft whisper in his ear and a hand running gently over his hair.   
When the older man gave a nod, Rick smiled at him and after pecking his lips once more asked:

         “Top or bottom?”

He moved his hip, grinding his hard length against Daryl’s and drawing another moan from the other man while he waited for his decision.   
Top or bottom. Never before had anyone even bothered to ask Daryl what he wanted. He had always been bottom, no exception. Always. He wasn’t an equal – he was a sub, the guy they could use for their pleasures, because after all, he was being paid for it one way or the other. They wanted to possess, to dominate, to be in control.   
          
         “Bottom”, he croaked in between two gasps when Rick moved his hip again and the friction was breathtaking. 

         “Sure?”

Daryl just growled his affirmation when the next second Rick’s mouth sealed his again and muffled the answer.   
Yes, bottom. He needed to know. Maybe it could be different – with the right man. Maybe Rick would make a difference, would be able to show him that it didn’t have to be the way it’s always been.  
Sitting up suddenly, the younger man straddled Daryl’s lap and, after turning the bedside lamp on, reached one hand into the drawer of the nightstand. They weren’t prepared, hadn’t expected for _this_ to happen and had neither lube, nor condoms. It was highly unlikely for these things to be a courtesy of the house as well, but Rick took a look nevertheless. While he was rummaging in the drawer, his other hand held tightly on to both of their dicks and rubbed them together, having both of the men give a lustful moan time and again.  
Daryl placed his hands flat against Rick’s chest, let them run over the hard nipples and played with the curly chest hair while his heart was racing like mad.   
He looked up at Rick and was overwhelmed by such a huge amount of emotions for this man that he couldn’t wait for the moment Rick would be inside of him, the moment they would become one and he could feel every inch of this gorgeous body as close as only possible.   
Rick retracted his hand and with a grin showed Daryl what he had found.   
It was a tube of lube and a couple of condoms with a note attached that read:  
_ “Have fun. My hearing aids are turned off.”  _  
They both chuckled for a moment, then Rick squeezed some of the lube into this palm and started slicking up his fingers, before he moved them on both of their joined cocks.   
His heart beating hard against his ribs, he watched Daryl’s pupils dilate with lust until they looked almost black, heard the little gasps and whimpers that escaped those delicious lips and felt the broad chest heave as the man’s breathing became heavier by the moment. Daryl’s reaction to what he did turned Rick on and his dick started leaking with precum. He couldn’t wait any longer. Had to be inside this man, right now. He fumbled with the condom nervously and then moved both of them into position.   
When the penetration came Daryl suppressed a cry, only to relax in surprise the next moment. It didn’t hurt. It took him a second to realize that Rick had merely slipped a finger into his opening and was doing gentle, careful moves while he resumed stroking their cocks with the other hand. A second finger was added after a while, then a third. Daryl reached up to pull his lover’s head down and kissed him hungrily on the mouth. Rick was preparing him, was making sure not to hurt him!  
No one had ever bothered before and in right that moment Daryl fell hopelessly in love with this man, felt his heart burst with all the overwhelming emotions that Rick stirred in him even before they had gone all the way.   
When the younger man slipped cautiously into him, waited a second for Daryl’s body to adjust and then started to slowly thrust into him, Daryl felt like every nerve in his body was being struck and pure electricity rushed through the fibres of his being. There was no coherent thought anymore, all his senses numbed save for what Rick moving inside of him made him feel.   
It had never been like that before. He could actually _feel_ the younger man’s hard length inside, pushing against the sensitive gland time and again and making him whimper and moan. He writhed underneath his lover with pure pleasure, not pain. There was no pain. Just this magical, fulfilling, mindblowing, beautiful, breathtaking feeling. 

         “Close”, Rick croaked after a while and meant to pull out, but Daryl’s hands on his hips kept him in place.

         “Come inside a’ me”, he breathed and only few thrusts later Rick did with a throaty moan.

Watching the handsome features contort with the sensation of his orgasm and hearing Rick’s deep moan, had Daryl get off, too, and with a scream he came more powerful than ever before in his life, pulsing out his cum all the way up to his chest.   
Rick collapsed onto his lover, his flagging length still inside of him, and panting heavily they clung to each other and came down from the high in each other’s arms. 

With a smile Rick pushed the sweaty bangs out of Daryl’s face, before he kissed him gently and then pulled out to sink to his lover’s side.   
Daryl turned away from him, but scooted back so Rick could spoon up behind him. And he did, wrapping his arm firmly over the older man’s side and pulling him close.  
They lay silently in each other’s arms and both regretted that silence all of a sudden. It wasn’t comfortable or soothing, it was awkward.  
Rick tried to still his racing heartbeat, knowing that the physical activity just now had nothing to do with its quickened pace.   
He felt guilty. Not because he’d been cheating, but because he had used Daryl to get back at Shane. He had enjoyed sleeping with this man way more than he was willing to admit and after all he’d done for him, Daryl deserved better than to be a means to an end.

There was a gentleness mixed with passion to this man that was so different from Shane.   
Shane was power, fervor and ecstasy. He made love like a steam train – not violent, but with a layer of aggression under the surface that made his movements fast, wild and harder than necessary. Although they had taken turns, Shane definitely preferred to be top, to be in control, to lead. He would humor Rick and do his fair share of bottoming, but never without giving his husband the impression that he didn’t enjoy it, that it didn’t satisfy him.   
He had never moaned and whimpered and writhed beneath Rick the way Daryl had done, and it had turned Rick on immensely to trigger off such a reaction in a lover. 

The younger man’s hand drew gentle circles on Daryl’s chest, while Rick dug his nose into his hair and placed tender kisses on his neck. He loved to cuddle after, loved to hold his lover close, feel the heated skin against his own and the quickened heartbeat beneath his palm, while they indulged in the aftermath of their lovemaking.   
Unfortunately Shane had never been much of a cuddler. Not like Rick. He never stayed in bed for long after sex, the surge of adrenaline making him antsy and restless and unable to just lay still and enjoy some tenderness.   
If he would kiss and caress and snuggle, it was usually the foreplay and needed to lead to more. Rick couldn’t remember any lazy Sunday morning they had just spent in bed, cuddling, lying in each other’s arms and doing no more than caressing and kissing without expecting for this to lead to sex. Why could he totally picture that Daryl would be the type of guy who’d like that? A lazy Sunday morning with just snuggling? – And why was he even giving this any thought at all now? 

Maybe because deep down inside he had doubts? Only an hour ago he would have said he still loved Shane, despite it all. And he did – as a friend, as someone who had been part of his life for so long. But was he still _in love_ with him? Rick had been so sure that they were a match made in heaven and the perfect couple. But maybe Daryl was right – if someone went cheating, something was wrong with that relationship and it had been for a while. Maybe it wasn’t all on Shane. Maybe Rick had just deluded himself for way too long. The reason he and Shane were still together might have been that they just didn’t know it any other way.  
          
_“Find someone new. Someone who suits ya better ‘n’ who loves ya just the way ya are. Start over ‘n’ then yer best years are still ta come.”_

Daryl’s words echoed in his mind all of a sudden and this time he didn’t dismiss them right away. _Find someone new_. That had felt like a thing unthinkable before, but now … Going back, to Shane, wasn’t that fighting for a lost cause? What Shane had done, what _Rick_ had done just now – wasn’t that a clear sign that they didn’t want each other anymore, were far from being a match made in heaven? How would they ever be able to come back from this? Rick had the feeling that there was a gap between him and his husband that couldn’t be bridged, and all of a sudden that thought didn’t hurt anymore. 

Still – he had to go back and settle matters, talk to Shane, see where he stood, try to figure out what to do next. He owed him that much after more than two decades, didn’t he?  
Maybe, when they talked things through, gave each other a chance, looked deep into the other’s eyes, they might fall in love all over again, the way they had back then when they were only teenagers. And maybe they would see that it was hopeless, that their lights shone brighter without the other and they were both better off with someone else.   
For a split second Rick couldn’t help wondering if that _someone else_ could be the man he was holding in his arms just now.   
But Daryl was just passing through, as he had said. Was gonna get a new six-pack and then be on his way to wherever the wind blew him. Mysterious, unsteady and unpredictable like the ocean. And yet – fascinating and intriguing. Rick was gonna miss him.  
He would have loved for Daryl to say something now, _anything._ Would have loved to know what the other man was feeling or thinking, yet Daryl kept quiet.

Little did Rick know that the man in his arms was crying. He was fighting the tears that were flooding his eyes, tried fiercely to swallow them down and yet one or the other kept running silently down his cheeks and fell onto the tousled pillow.   
Even if he had tried to express what he felt, words would have failed him. There were no words for the pure bliss and beauty of what he had just experienced, and for the way the man who was laying pressed against his back made him feel.   
No one had ever touched him like this. No one had ever made him feel anything slightly resembling or half as intense. It was so much _more_ than he had ever imagined possible between two men and it was so incredibly amazing, that the mere thought of having to go on without this feeling was killing him. He never knew what it felt like, what it could be like, what the difference was between simply fucking and making love. He knew now.   
_ Love. _ This had got to be _it_ , that magnificent feeling that made the world turn, made his heart swell two sizes and had butterflies flutter in the pit of his stomach. Love. But it wasn’t his to have and hold.

    “I need a smoke”, Daryl said unexpectedly.

Without waiting for a reply, he slipped out of Rick’s embrace and got up, donned his boxers quickly with his back turned to the other man and then headed to the door.

    “Want me to come?”

    “Ya just did”, Daryl teased mildly, but his inflection was slightly strained and let Rick know that Daryl needed some time to himself.

 

When the door had fallen shut, Rick sank heavily back into the pillows and rubbed his hands tiredly over his face.   
What a mess! His world had been turned upside down and now he had pulled Daryl into this chaos, had made him part of it and yet was unable to tell what kind of part he  wanted him to play.   
Rick pushed the covers back and got up to head to the bathroom. He slammed the door shut behind himself and then turned the faucet on to splash some water into his face and clean himself up. When he looked into the mirror, he noticed a few white spots on his chest and realized that it must be some of Daryl’s cum that had gotten stuck to him during their tight embrace.  
He smeared his finger into it and then brought it closer to his face to take a look. Which was odd enough – in all the time with Shane he had never done a thing like that.   
          
          _“Kinks”,_ he couldn’t help thinking.

Was that what drove his man away? Was he into any weird stuff that Rick probably had never even heard of, let alone tried? Hell, Rick could even have counted the number of porns he had watched on the fingers of one hand. He had never felt the urge to watch other dudes do it – he had Shane.   
He had been so madly in love with that man, had never wanted anyone else than him and all he really wanted to do right now was punch him in the face. That was a lie, but it felt good thinking it anyway. This chaos was confusing and disturbing and Shane had started it, so Rick figured he was entitled to some aggressive thoughts.    
He looked at his reflection in the mirror – at the flushed cheeks, the sweaty curls and the traces of another man’s cum on his chest. 

         “Guess what”, he said to the man in the mirror, “you just cheated on your husband. With a dude who ran you over the day before yesterday.” 

For a moment he wondered if either of the two cared that  _ this  _ had just happened. Maybe Shane would even be glad that he and Rick had a good reason now to go separate ways. Maybe he wouldn’t be bothered at all. If he was to call Shane in the morning and rubbed it in, going “While you were watching the late night news, I smeared my finger into some dude’s cum after I fucked him through the mattress”, would Shane give a damn? Or would he reply: “Good for you. Keep him. I got my own here.”

Rick sighed. 

_ If  _ he was to say a thing like that to his husband, it would be a lie, too. Daryl wasn’t just  _ some dude _ and Rick didn’t consider what they did  _ fucking.  _ Daryl … Why did he even care for that man? Why did he make Rick feel  _ anything _ , although he kept secrets from him just like Shane? Because he helped him, took him to see the ocean, lent a sympathetic ear? 

Would  _ Daryl  _ care about what Rick called him, what he saw in him, whether or not he was just  _ some dude _ to him or not? After all – getting a lay with random guys didn’t seem new to the man, so it was probably Rick who’d been used here right now. Daryl had picked him up, taken him to a  _ motel  _ instead of a hospital and what they had just done may have been the plan right from the start. Now that he had gotten what he wanted, would Daryl even still be here tomorrow morning? Or would he leave secretly some time tonight, maybe take some more of Rick’s money and just disappear? They didn’t owe each other anything and maybe all they were to each other was another notch on the bedpost.

Rick looked at the white stuff on his finger and sighed again. If he were half a man, he’d do what the dudes in those porns did and lick it off now, taste Daryl, swallow his cum. But, jeez, that was gross.   
Rick turned the faucet back on and washed his hands, rinsed Daryl off of his finger and watched the remains of his cheating disappear into the drain. Boy scout! No wonder nobody wanted to stay with him.

 

Daryl stood out on the porch and shivered violently against the cold. He could barely control the shaking of his hand, while he took a deep drag from his smoke and exhaled audibly, wondering for just a second why the heck he was out here in only his boxers. But that entirely irrelevant thought was quickly dismissed.   
Jack.  _ Rick.  _ The lines had blurred and what used to be just a fantasy lover had become a person in flesh and blood. This was so entirely different from all the meaningless flings he had had with casual acquaintances or perfect strangers.   
Daryl would never have thought possible that it could hit so sudden, consume a person’s body and soul from one moment to the next, but now, for the first time ever, he understood what “Love hurts” really meant.   
It meant being head over heels in love with someone he could never have. Someone who was taken, who had no reason to invest any emotions into Daryl Dixon, who was wearing a ring and who may value the promise he had given enough to consider going back and giving his marriage another chance. Rick probably still loved Shane, despite it all, and tonight was no more than a release of frustration and tension, just a tit-for-tat. Daryl had just been used once again and he’d be a fool to expect anything else. And still …  
While he had just taken it all the other times and dismissed it as the shitty cards he’d been dealt, this time it hurt profoundly and had new tears flood his eyes.

He stubbed the butt of his smoke out and tossed it into the night. No doubt the old man would probably make him go pick it up in the morning.    
The cards that he’d been dealt …  
Sometimes Daryl felt like a card himself – a card in a game he never learned how to play. He couldn’t win, which probably wasn’t even his fault. He just didn’t have a suit, didn’t have a value – he was the joker. He could substitute for any suit and value required, change according to the situation, turn into whatever people wanted him to be. He had never tried to find out who he really was, who he wanted to be, so naturally no one would ever see him as _anything_ , because he was in fact nothing.   
A joker. And the joke was definitely on him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know there are still loooots of unanswered questions and this chapter may seem like I've either lost my mind or like torturing you guys with angst. Trust me - until the last chapter things will be revealed and questions answered and all this serves a purpose other than being mean. :-) Hang in there!  
> Thanks for reading!!


	11. Chapter 11

When Daryl woke up, Rick wasn’t there. Naturally. They never stayed. 

Last night, right after he had put his first smoke out, Daryl had lit a second one, unable to get the raging chaos of emotions and confusing thoughts under control. Despite his feet feeling like blocks of ice after a while and the cool night air chilling him to the bone, he had remained standing out on the porch, nervously taking one drag from his smoke after the other and staring into the starry sky as though the answer was hidden up there somewhere.  
He had flinched when a shadow had appeared silently by his side and his jacket had been wrapped around his shoulders. Rick. Neither of them had said a word, had just stood motionless on the porch and stared out into the night.  
In the end Rick had hugged Daryl from behind, had pressed against his back for a moment and placed a gentle kiss to the side of his head. Then he had returned to their room, not seeing how Daryl’s hands had balled into fists, crumbling the cigarette in the process.   
When he had slipped back into bed a while later, Rick had been asleep – or had pretended to be. He hadn’t stirred when Daryl had tenderly smoothed a stray curl out of his forehand, wondering how he would bear seeing this man leave him.  
It had taken him ages to fall asleep, but sometime long after midnight Rick’s deep and even breathing had finally lulled him to sleep.

Daryl rubbed the sleep from his eyes and, sitting up, looked around the room. He almost expected to see a note or even a couple of dollar bills somewhere, but there was nothing. Did Rick truly just leave? Without a word, without at least telling him that he’d made a mistake and the previous night had never happened as far as he was concerned. That he was going back to Shane and … How would he go back? He had no car and they were pretty much in the asscrack of nowhere. So …  
         The sound of voices reached his ear suddenly and when he listened closely he could hear the old man talking to someone, followed by a familiar laugh that sent an electrical charge through Daryl’s body straight into his heart. The next moment he was out of bed, donned his pants and made a beeline for the window.   
Rick was out on the porch, a mug of steaming coffee in his hand. He leaned against the railing and watched as the old man slowly and on unsteady feet headed down to the waterfront.   
The sun was up already and shone onto the porch, but it looked warmer than it apparently was. Rick had his jacket wrapped tightly around himself and warmed his fingers on the steaming mug, while the wind chased a flock of white clouds across the sky. Daryl watched the auburn curls being tousled and the lean figure sway in the wind, and the mere joy of seeing that man drove all sorrows away for the time being.   
He donned the rest of his clothes along with his socks and shoes and, still struggling with the sleeves of his jacket, joined Rick on the porch a moment later. 

         “Mornin’.”

Rick flashed him a smile.

         “Morning yourself. Sleep well?”

         “Like a baby.”

He walked over to the other man and for a long moment they just stood in front of each other and looked deep into the other’s eyes, undecided what to do and what best _not_ to do. In the end Rick held his mug out to Daryl with another ghost of a smile.

“Want some? It’s good.”  
          
Daryl accepted the coffee with a thankful nod, took a few sips and then returned it to Rick. 

         “Yer up long?”

         “A while. Watched the sun come up. First time ever I’ve seen the sun rise over the ocean. It was beautiful.”

         “Yeah, I bet. You coulda wake me.”

“You’ve already seen it, so I let you sleep. Hadda do some thinking.”

Darly’s heart skipped a beat.

“Come to a conclusion?”

Rick shook his head and, after handing the mug back to Daryl, leaned heavily on the railing.

         “No. I’m not sure. It’s … difficult.”

He fell silent and at a lack for words Daryl just stood motionless next to him and took a few sips more of the hot coffee. Just when he meant to give it back to Rick, the younger man said:  
          
         “I’m sorry.” 

Daryl set the mug aside and looked at him in surprise.

         “Sorry for what?”

         “For whatever I did wrong last night. Made you leave.”

He heard the older man gasp, but not a word was spoken in response.   
Rick was totally taken by surprise when Daryl appeared right in front of him suddenly and, with his hands to either side of Rick’s face, pushed him back against the siding of the house. The next moment Daryl’s lips found Rick’s and he kissed him passionately and with a tinge of desperation that had Rick’s knees turn to jelly. He responded instantly, kissed his companion back as though there was no tomorrow.   
Only the need for air broke them apart and panting heavily, Daryl took a step back. 

         “I just need ya ta know that ya didn’t do nothin’ wrong at all. Not a single bit. Ain’t no one ever made me feel like ya did last night.” 

         “In a good way?”

         “The best. That dude ya got there back home – he _is_ a dumbass. Ain’t got no clue what he put at stake.” 

A gust blew the long bangs into Daryl’s face and with a gentle gesture Rick reached out and pushed the hair behind his friend’s ear.   
Daryl’s heart was racing. He let his eyes rest on Rick face for a moment and looked him deep in the eyes, drowning in the cerulean depths and hoping to find something new there, something that hadn’t been there before. And he thought he saw it, too. _More._ A spark that could turn into a flame. A light that would actually be burning for Daryl for a change.   
He had never hoped and prayed for someone to love him, but now … Maybe this was one of the crossroads he had ignored all his life. One of the moments that could change his life for the better. Maybe this was his last chance, the last exit to leave the highway to hell and finally live a life worth living. With Rick.

He breathed in deep several times to loosen the tight knots in his stomach, pulled his cell out of the pocket of his jacket and held it out to Rick.

         “Here. Give him a call.”

Rick looked at the cell as though it was a poisonous snake.

         “Ya gotta talk to him sooner or later. Best make it sooner – the longer ya wait, the harder it is ta say. Whatever.”

The younger man nodded, accepted the cell and with a nervously throbbing heart started dialing. He turned away from Daryl to concentrate on what he meant to say and thus never noticed that his companion didn’t leave.   
He stood frozen behind Rick, clutching the coffee mug crushingly to occupy his hands, while he watched the wind tear at the sand-colored jacket and play with the curls he had started to love.   
He heard the call go through and a voice answering on the other end. 

_ “Hey. About time you called, man. Where the heck are you?” _

Rick pulled in a deep breath to answer, when he suddenly froze and a frown spread over his face.

         _“I’m talking to you! Okay, yeah, so I got a little rough. Sorry about that, but you best not even think about telling anyone. You hear me?”_

A lump in his throat almost choked Rick, while his heart was throbbing painfully all of a sudden. The little wheels in his head turned and turned, but no matter how hard he tried to come up with an explanation for what he was hearing – he failed. Or rather, his mind went into denial.   
He pulled the cell away from his ear and stared at it. _‘Shane’_ it read in the display, although he had entered the number by hand, and he hadn’t said a word since his husband had answered the call – how did he know it was him?   
This was Daryl’s cell …  
Rick’s head whipped around and in plain shock he stared at the other man, who was standing a few feet away from him. The look in Daryl’s shadow blue eyes spoke volumes. 

“No!” Rick gasped.   
The cell slipped from his hands and crashed down onto the wooden floor of the porch.  
         “You?! _You_ are the bastard Shane’s cheating me with?”

Daryl just stood there, unmoving, searching helplessly for the right words to say, yet knowing there were no right words. 

The next second Rick attacked Daryl and pushed him roughly against the siding, the way Daryl had done just a moment ago – but the furiously blazing eyes left no doubt that kissing wasn’t what he had in mind. When his hand came up to punch Daryl in the face, the coffee mug fell to the ground and smashed into pieces, spilling its contents over their shoes and the wooden floor.   
Rick’s arm hovered in the air for a split second, while the agitated man watched shadow blue eyes close and being squeezed tightly shut. Daryl didn’t fight him off, didn’t try to evade the situation – he just dug his head and expected the blow, as though he was used to just take whatever was delivered.  
The younger man’s eyes flicked to the black eye and his husband’s words echoed in his mind suddenly:   
         _“I got a little rough.”_  
Anger, frustration, humiliation, pain – a myriad of emotions exploded in Rick’s head, behind his burning eyes, in his heart. He couldn’t stand it.

With a furious scream he slammed his hand hard against the wall next to Daryl’s head to give vent to the chaos raging inside of him. Then he turned on his heels and ran down the steps to the beach. He didn’t look back, didn’t look left or right, just kept on running.

Daryl pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index finger and breathed in deep to compose himself. He watched Rick disappear into the distance, while a cold hand got hold of his heart and squeezed mercilessly. Just when he considered running after him, Daryl noticed a voice still coming from his cell and picked it up.

         “Hold yer horses, will ya.”

         _“You little shit”,_ Shane spat at him from the other end of the line. _“What is Rick doing there with you?”_

         “Pretty much the same ya did, too. But ya know what, asshole, he’s way better in bed than you.”

That said he disconnected and turned the cell off.  
His knees turning to jelly suddenly, he sank heavily onto the top step of the stairs and fumbled for his pack of smokes. Screw chewing gum and smoking less – as long as his life was a shitty disaster, he didn’t see how he could make it through a day without a pack of cigarettes. 

Just when he had one lit and took the first deep drag, he noticed the old man return and approach him with feet as heavy as lead. Walking in the soft sand gave him extra trouble, but apparently he had set his mind on taking a daily stroll on the beach, and he would until his dying day.   
Holding on to his cane he lowered himself onto the step next to Daryl and, after taking a few rattling breaths, said:

         “Ain’t none of my business, my boy, but you should go after him.”

         “Don’t think he’d want me to”, Daryl said gloomily.

         “You’re not gonna find out sitting here, lad. Listen to an old man, who’s made mistakes. A once-in-a-lifetime chance is what it is – a chance you only get once. Don’t be an ass and let it slip through your fingers.”

         “Nah, ya don’t get it. Him ‘n’ me – we ain’t together or somethin’. Met only the day before yesterday as a matter a’ fact.”

The old man shrugged unimpressed.

“So? He’s still here with you today and before you screwed up there, he had no intention of leaving.”

Daryl cast him a surprised side glance.

         “What makes ya think so?”

         “He asked if that room was available a while longer.”

He winked at Daryl and grinned a toothless grin, as though he was thrilled that his old house was the place where young love started blooming. This was most definitely the most exciting thing happening to him in years.  
Daryl pressed his lips together and swallowed hard.

         “He’s married.”

         “Yeah, I noticed”, the old man commented nonchalantly. “I was, too, you know. So was the love of my life. We just weren’t married to each other. Saw him on and off secretly for years and years, but it was never enough time. Never. Was probably my fault. I always found excuses, alibis, _reasons_ – family, job.”

He sighed deeply and ran a hand tiredly over his weather-beaten face.

         “Truth is – I was a coward. Those were different times back then. Was before you boys were even born. I didn’t … didn’t have the balls to come out, to stand by him the way I should have.”

Daryl noticed how the eyes of the man became shiny and the Adam’s apple in the wrinkly neck bobbed as he swallowed down tears. 

“And then he was gone.”

His voice was choked and he fell silent, breathed in deep several times, while he looked out over the ocean. 

         “What happened?” Daryl asked cautiously.

         “He was killed by some homophobic assholes, who couldn’t see what a beautiful soul he was. And I never stopped regretting that I wasted all the time we could have had.”

Daryl looked at the other man with compassion. There was so much pain in the watery brown eyes, so much regret and longing in the hoarse voice. 

          “Nah, ya don’t understand. Rick and I – we ain’t a thing. Ain’t in love or nothing.”

         “Yeah? Who do you try to fool – me or yourself, lad? Saw the way you looked at each other before ya hadda make that stupid phone call. And that kiss there – holy moly, it’s been a while since I’ve last seen the likes.”  
He smiled to himself for a moment before picking up again.  
“It always starts with a spark, ain’t a raging wildfire right from the start. But you’re about to put it out before it had a chance.”

He slowly got up and stretched his aching limbs.

         “Like I said – none of my business. But believe me, there ain’t nothing worse than reaching the end of your life and, looking back, you see nothing but regrets. You want to turn back time and start over, do it right, but you can’t. I left Wyoming after his death and came here. Thought I could forget if I never saw another mountain in my life, but you know – he’s still with me. I see his eyes in the blue of the sky, hear his voice in the rolling of the waves and his smile in the glistening of the sunrays on the surface of the sea. 

He scratched his balding head, before casting Daryl a glance.

         “I’m just a mawkish old idiot. You don’t have to listen to me. All I’m saying is – give it a chance. If it ain’t _it_ , nothing lost. But you don’t wanna keep wondering all your life what could have been. ‘s all I’m saying.”

That said he turned around to head back into the house.

         “What did you tell him?” Daryl asked loud enough for the older man to hear over the sound of the sea, although he claimed to be wearing hearing aids. 

         “Huh?”

         “About the room. Is it still available?”

The old fellow flashed him a wide smile.

         “You bet.”

Daryl gave a curt nod and watched thoughtfully as the old man headed to the back door. Before it fell shut, he called:  
          
         “What’s your name, anyway?”

          “Ennis. Ennis del Mar.”

          “Pleasure. ‘m Daryl.”

“Yeah, fine”, Ennis made a dismissive gesture, “but you’re still sitting on this fucking porch, _Daryl._ Did you hear a word of what I said? Are you gonna go get your man now or what?”  
He looked thoughtfully into the direction Rick had disappeared in.   
         “Jeez, lad, have you seen those eyes? If I was a little younger, I’d chase him myself.”

Daryl laughed out loud despite himself.  
          
         “You know”, Ennis added in a choked voice, “my Jack had eyes like that, too.”

And with that he turned around and the door fell shut behind him, while Daryl stared after him with his mouth gaped open.

         Jack? _Jack!_

That was a sign. It had to be. What were the odds of the old guy’s lost love being named Jack? 

Daryl was on his feet the next moment and started running down the beach. He didn’t want to be in Ennis’ shoes one day, mourning the loss of _his_ Jack _,_ regretting for the rest of his life that he let him go, wasted a chance that might never come again. Daryl was gonna get his _Jack_ – he had to try.  


	12. Chapter 12

Rick hadn’t run as far as Daryl had expected. About two hundred yards down the beach he was sitting on a rock with his elbows propped up on his knees and his face hidden in his hands.    
He was a mere picture of misery and Daryl’s pulse rate accelerated.    
He had never meant to hurt Rick. Not before he had even met him, when Rick had been no more than Shane’s misfortunate spouse back home, and certainly not after.    
Since the moment in the diner when the picture of Shane had been lying on the table and it had all fallen into place, Daryl had desperately tried to find a way out of this mess, figure out a gentle approach to tell Rick the truth. He hadn’t meant to drop a bombshell like that, but there’d just wasn’t an easy way to say “Hey, guess what – I’m the dude who’s been screwing with your husband.” 

Daryl stopped a few feet away from Rick and breathed in deep. 

        “Rick?”

        “Leave me alone.”

Rick didn’t even lift his head and his voice carried an aching mixture of hurt and defeat, anger and hate and had Daryl swallow thickly against a lump in his throat.  
         
        “Talk to me, please.”

        “Got nothing to say.” Rick looked up and shot him a furious glance. “Just get lost! What the hell kind of sick game are you playing?”

        “Ain’t playin’ no game. I didn’t plan for this to happen.”

Rick was on his feet in a flash and took a threatening step in Daryl’s direction.

        “You wanna tell me it’s all a coincidence? That you just _happened_ to run into me miles out of town?”

        “Yes!”

        “Bullshit! What, did you have a fight with Shane? Has he been promising to dump me for you or something and then he never did? Have you been following me? Did you run me over deliberately with the plan to _save_ me and get me to fuck with you? Is this your revenge, a sick kind of retaliation?”

Daryl felt like he was being punched in the guts. God, that man’s imagination was running wild and all this couldn’t have been further from the truth, but how was he going to make Rick understand? Understand that for the first time ever he felt this strongly for anyone and that Rick was the one person Daryl wanted – before and especially after he knew who he was. 

        “It’s not like that! I didn’t know who ya was till … till ya showed me that picture. Never knew yer name. Never asked. ‘Twasn’t important.”

The next second Rick closed the distance between them in few large steps and furiously shoved Daryl backwards. 

        “You sonuvabitch. You knew you were fucking with a married man and it wasn’t important?  _ I  _ wasn’t important?”

          “Wouldn’ta made no difference knowin’ yer name, right? And if it hadn’t been me, it woulda been someone else. Shane made that decision, not me.”

“Yeah?” Rick shoved him again and Daryl could barely regain his balance stumbling backwards. “I’m gonna find out about that. Gonna go home and talk to my husband. _My_ husband, you get that?”

He stomped past Daryl without so much as looking at him, but a hand on his arm held him back a second later. 

        “Nah, ya can’t go back!”

Rick shrugged the hand off and shot the other man another furious look.

        “Don’t ever touch me again!”

        “Ya don’t get it. Ya’ve no idea what kind a’ man he is, what he can do.”

        “And you do? You think a couple of lays make you the damn expert?”

With a derisive snort he turned around to walk away from Daryl, but the older man held on to Rick’s arm once again and spun him around.

        “Look at me!” he yelled in helpless frustration, pointing at the black eye. “Ya know _he_ did that! And ‘twasn’t a fight about him breakin’ a promise or crap. He ain’t never made no promises – he just used me for his kinks. Whether ya wanna hear that or not – the man’s not what ya think he is. Don’t tell me ya’ve never noticed his aggressive side, his propensity to violence. Pro’bly never unleashed it ‘round you, but I know.”

        “Shut up!”

        “Ya think ignorin’ the truth ‘s gonna change it? This ain’t the first black eye he gave me in all those months ‘n’ prob’ly woundn’ta been the last. But that night … He goddamn almost choked me! He likes doin’ that shit, turns him on, but this time … he didn’t stop. I hadda fight him off. Kicked him in the nuts ‘n’ _this_ ”, he pointed at his face, “this was his answer. He was so fuckin’ furious, I thought he’s gonna kill me, so I punched him back. He fell, hit his head ‘n’ was out long enough for me ta get the hell outta there. – The dude’s dangerous, man.”

Rick stared at him with wide eyes as though Daryl had just grown a second head, then the hateful glow returned to the azure blue eyes.

        “That’s a lie! You’re just making this up.”

        “Why would I make this up? Why d’ya think I’s runnin’? Ya know he’s a cop ‘n’ after what happened, he’s prob’ly shittin’ his pants that I’s gonna tell someone. Would end his career pretty fast, if it came out what kinda perv he is, huh? He cannot risk that. Think ‘bout it, Rick! If I’s to just disappear ‘n’ was never seen again, who’d miss me?”

Rick gasped.

        “So now he’s a killer? That what you’re trying to sell me here? God, you’re sick. Get a doctor. I’m not even listening to this crap anymore.”

He turned around and hurried down the beach with Daryl in fierce pursuit. 

        “Please, think it through, man. I ain’t got no reason ta lie. Ain’t makin’ this up. Don’t go back to him. Now that ya know, maybe he …”

        “What? He’s gonna kill me, too? Do you even hear yourself? Just shut the fuck up already!” Rick yelled at him, while he turned around on his heels. “I want you out of my … _our_ life, you hear me. You’ve destroyed it all, you damn bastard.”

        “Me?” Daryl looked at him with frustration and pain burning in his eyes. “’s funny, since I’m the only one who ain’t been cheatin’.” 

Rick froze and for a moment he visibly needed all his self-control to not hit Daryl for that remark.

        “Fucking asshole!” he spat in the end.

        “Yeah? Ya didn’t mind that asshole last night.” 

Daryl regretted the ambiguous remark instantly when he saw the disgusted expression in Rick’s eyes. 

        “Can’t believe you said that”, the younger man muttered after a moment. 

Then he turned around and walked away. After a couple of steps he called over his shoulder:

        “You know what – keep the fifty bucks you stole from me. Guess it was worth them.” 

As though somebody had punched him in the face, Daryl’s knees buckled and he sank onto the sandy ground, while he watched the other man hurry down the beach without looking back. 

        “Can’t believe ya said that, either”, he muttered to himself. 

 

Later Daryl couldn’t tell how long he’d been sitting in the sand, just staring blindly at the ocean without really seeing it.   
He didn’t hear the cries of the seagulls or the roaring of the wind-whipped waves, didn’t smell the salty air or feel the cool, moist sand or the breeze that tousled his hair.   
All he saw was the fury and hate in the beloved cerulean orbs, all he heard were all the accusations and insults Rick had spat in his face, all he felt was pain.   
People had called him lots of things over the years and barely anyone ever gave him a smile, but he had long since learned to have that bounce off of him. He couldn’t take it to heart, not each and every time it happened. But this just now … This had hurt more than anything else ever had, including his father’s belt on his back all those years ago. Maybe it was even a draw to the excruciating heartache when Merle had died.   
How did this go so terribly wrong? Daryl had felt drawn to Rick ever since the night at the motel, for whatever reason. Maybe because the man’s looks matched his imagination of the perfect lover and the more he had gotten to know him, the more the lines between _Jack_ and Rick had blurred. Daryl had wanted that man in his life, by his side, especially since he knew who his husband was.   
This wasn’t about revenge. He hadn’t seduced Rick to get back at Shane for what he had done to him. No, Daryl seduced Rick to protect him, to win his heart, to make him stay and never go back to that violent, cheating bastard. He knew what kind of man Shane was. Maybe he hadn’t raised his hand against Rick yet, but he might – one day. And he would go on cheating, dollars to donuts, if he didn’t get what he needed at home – and it was unlikely for a gentle, considerate, tender lover like Rick to let himself in for his husband’s kinks.   
Daryl would have been the one who suited Rick better, the one he told Rick to find. He was longing to be that _one_ and thus had meant to tell Rick the truth – about everything. About Shane, about himself, about what exactly happened, so they could start from scratch without any secrets and lies between them.   
But the plan had backfired. Big time. What had he been thinking? Why would Rick trust him, believe him – some guy he had met only two days ago? Of course he would take his husband’s side, would be unable to believe that he’d been married to a monster, would be unwilling to accept that his long-term relationship had been built on lies and deception.

        _“And maybe it wasn’t the smartest move to rub it in that he’d been cheating. You know, make him feel extra guilty about …”_

        “Ah, shut up!” Daryl growled at the blonde girl, who had just made a reappearance. 

        _“Get a grip, man. At least ya got a good lay ‘n’ fifty bucks for …”_

_         “ _ Just shut the fuck up!! Yer fired – both a’ ya. Just leave me the fuck alone!”

Once more he would have loved a buck for each time he used the f-word. He’d definitely prefer making his money that way, rather than … 

Pulling in a deep breath, Daryl rubbed his hands tiredly over his face and then slowly struggled to his feet.   
There was no sense in staying here. Sooner or later he had to go back and maybe, if he apologized for his comment about the cheating and wouldn’t catch Rick on the wrong foot again, he’d be given another chance to explain himself. 

 

When he approached the house, he saw Ennis sitting in one of the rocking chairs on the back porch, and the look in the old man’s eyes had Daryl’s heart sink instantly.

        “’s he gone?” he croaked and wasn’t even surprised when Ennis just nodded quietly.

Daryl dropped heavily into the second rocking chair and swallowed against the raspy sensation in the back of his throat. Too late.

        “I tried to talk him out of it”, the old man said with empathy peppering his inflection, “but, jeez, the last time I saw someone so furious and frustrated was when Jack …”  
He fell quiet and swallowed thickly.   
        “Never mind that. Get your butt in gear, boy, and try to bring him back.”

Daryl cast him a confused side glance, before he caught on. Rick didn’t have a car! Was he planning on _walking_ all the way back home?

        “He paid my neighbor to take him to the highway”, Ennis explained, as though he had heard the younger man’s thoughts. “I guess your man’s planning on hitching a ride from there. Maybe he’s out of luck and you’ll still find him there.”

Daryl was on his feet and headed for his car even before the old man had finished his sentence. 

An hour later he came back, alone, a sad and defeated expression in his eyes. Ennis didn’t even have to ask – he hadn’t found him, so Rick apparently had been lucky and was on his way home. 

        “Care for a beer, lad?” the old man asked sympathetically and Daryl nodded thankfully.

        “’m gonna get it”, he offered, when he noticed Ennis struggle to get out of the chair. 

Five minutes later they were seated side by side, each with a cold beer in their hand, but neither taking a sip. 

        “Wanna tell me what happened?” the old man asked cautiously.

Daryl raised the bottle to his lips and took a large swig after all, wondering if bringing the old man into the loop was a good idea or not. Actually it was nobody’s business and telling his and Rick’s story would mean revealing quite delicate details. But Daryl was dying for someone to talk to, someone to listen and share the load. And maybe this gentle, wise and caring gentleman would be able to give some advice, or a hug – or both. Daryl was in dire need of either one.

        “Ain’t gonna be no pretty story”, he warned and wasn’t really surprised when Ennis just shrugged.

        “They never are.”

        “Dunno where ta start.”

        “Huh, best way to start a story is at the beginning”, Ennis said flatly. “How did you meet?”

After another swig from his beer, Daryl cleared his throat and told the older man about the accident and the motel and saw the deep brown eyes grow large and larger.

        “You ran him over, took him to a motel and stripped him? Damn, why have I never thought of that?” 

The comment made Daryl chuckle despite himself, before he sobered up again and continued. It was quite an effort for him to reveal details of his past, of his lonesome and loveless life, his fantasies about a dream lover and his instant attraction to Rick.

        “Can perfectly understand that”, Ennis winked, drawing another smile from the younger man.

        “Yeah, but he ’s drunk ‘n’ upset when I ran him over, ‘cause he just found out his husband’s been cheatin’.”

        “Well, yeah, but …” Ennis cut in, when he thought about how his boyfriend and he had been going behind their oblivious wives’ backs.

        “Turned out _I_ ’s the guy his husband’s been cheating with.”

The old man almost spat his beer and coughed violently for a moment, while Daryl sighed deeply and patted his back till he had recovered.

        “Lemme get this straight – Rick’s husband cheated with _you_? And then Rick cheated on his husband with _you._ ” 

        “Yeah, but Rick didn’t know who I was till that phone call.”

        “Hold it, lad. _You_ knew who _he_ was though, right?”

        “Uh-huh.”

        “And you bumped uglies with him and _then_ told him?”

Daryl took great interest in the tips of his shoes suddenly.

        “I guess. And when he got angry ‘n’ blamed me, I rubbed it in. Said I’s the only one involved who ain’t been cheatin’ ‘n’ then he pretty much called me a whore ‘n’ took off.” 

It was deadly quiet for a moment, then Ennis said:

          “You had a point there.”

        “Yeah”, Daryl replied almost too soft for the old man’s hearing aids, “so had he.”

Ennis cast him a glance, again entirely unimpressed. He had seen too much in his life to judge anybody for anything and he had a feeling that this boy didn’t deserve being judged, either. Some people did things, simply because they could and they didn’t care about the consequences. And others did what they had to do and then would beat themselves up because of it all their life.

        “So, looks as though you both only stated some facts there. Ain’t pretty things to say, but you can’t blame or be angry with someone for telling the truth.”

Daryl cast Ennis a surprised glance. This sure was a reaction he hadn’t expected to his revelations.

        “You know, Daryl, Rick’s got a lot to digest and wrap his mind around there. He probably feels like he’s been betrayed twice and that must be quite a blow. Give him some time. There’s things you can _tell_ people and then there’s others they need to figure out on their own. You know”, he pointed to his heart, “in here. I have this feeling about the two of you.”

        “Yeah?” Daryl just grumbled. “that feelin’s prob’ly just gas or somethin’.”

The younger man didn’t look at his companion, while he took another sip from his beer. It suddenly tasted like soap.   
_ Give him some time.  _ For what? For Rick to realize that Daryl was right? That his marriage had been a farce?   
Daryl suppressed a derisive snort.    
It wouldn’t change matters. Rick wouldn’t come back. He might decide on a divorce, but if he was to look for someone new to share his life, it sure as hell wouldn’t be Daryl.  _ Guy like that is outta yer league,  _ he still heard that mean little voice in the back of his mind and although it was a hard pill to swallow, it was a fact.  
He didn’t have a job, no home, no education, he wasn’t mind-blowing handsome and no intriguing personality – whatever he had to offer at all, Rick had already had that, so why should he bother? Daryl was nobody, just some dude he had a one-night stand with. Even worse – he was the stain on Rick’s white vest and Rick would try to forget him and put these past two days behind him as quickly as only possible.

        “I can’t stay”, Daryl croaked out after a moment of silence.

        “So? You’re choice, lad, but if you leave, he won’t be able to find you.”

        “And his good-for-nothing husband, neither”, Daryl slipped.    
He pressed his lips together to a thin line for a moment, chiding himself for pulling this friendly old man into all of his problems.   
        “The dude’s dangerous.”

        “What’s he gonna do, now that Rick knows? And I. And Lord knows who else. Cat’s long since outta the bag, so relax.”   
He struggled to get onto his feet.   
        “Have another beer. I’m gonna go check the shotgun, just in case.”

As soon as the words had registered, Daryl placed a hand on his companion’s arm to hold him back. This was getting totally out of hand. 

        “Hold it, G.I. Joe”, he teased. “Shane ain’t the main reason why I need ta leave. Truth to be told – I ain’t got no money ta pay for the room.” 

Ennis waved that off.

        “Rick already paid for last night and as for …”, he fell quiet when he saw the hurt expression on the younger man’s face.

Daryl’s knuckles showed white as he clutched the beer bottle crushingly. It was one thing to call him a whore, but another one to treat him like one and whether Rick was aware of it or not, he had done just that. He knew about the fifty bucks, could have left it to Daryl to cover for the rent, but instead he had done what all the others before him had done, too. Pay for the room, pay for the food and leave him money for his _service,_ before leaving without so much as saying good-bye. 

        “He didn’t mean anything by it”, Ennis tried to smooth ruffled feelings, but his words fell on deaf ears.    
“Tell you what”, he picked up and nudged Daryl’s shoulder to draw his attention. “You might have noticed that the old place needs a few repairs and some fresh paint here and there. I can’t do that myself anymore, so here’s the deal – you work for me in exchange for free board and lodge for as long as you’d want to stay. How’s that?” 

The offer took Daryl completely off guard.

        “Yer offerin’ me a job?”

        “Ain’t no charity or something. I need to have those repairs done anyway and you need a place to stay for a while longer, so we’d both be stupid to say no.”

Daryl cocked his head and suppressed a grin. This was the most charming way anyone had ever made a decision for him. How could he possible decline now?    
Ennis was right – he’d be dumb to leave, not least of all because he had nowhere to go, but most of all, because there was still a chance, however small, that Rick would come back. So Daryl stayed. 

Ennis found him a change of clothes that sure wasn’t the latest craze, but a comfortable attire of blue jeans and a plaid flannel shirt, and after he’d made a huge pot of strong coffee Daryl went to work.    
He screwed the loose shutters in tight, changed a couple of lightbulbs, took care of one or the other squeaking door and started painting the siding of the house. The more he worked, the more he felt the cold hand around his heart loosen its grip.    
He had forgotten how much he liked working with his hands and that he was good at it, too. For a moment he thought he heard the annoying voices in his mind giggle and rolled his eyes.   
        _“Not like_ that _, you dirty fuckers.”_   
No, not like _that._ Which was why he loved this job and this place and the old man.    
Ennis was a blessing. Daryl had needed a friend badly and this old lad was willing to be one. Even more so, he gave him food and a place to stay and didn’t expect him to drop his pants in return.

The whole day Ennis kept him company, prepared a couple of delicious sandwiches for lunch, cooked a wonderful stew for dinner and brought him a seemingly endless supply of coffee. They talked for hours while Daryl was doing the repairs, got to know each other and lent a sympathetic ear to the other’s sorrow and worries.    
Daryl had to swallow thickly a few times when Ennis started talking about his Jack and was lost in sorrow and regret for a while, only to flash the younger man a smile a moment later going “But it’s gonna be different for you and Rick, mark my words.”    
He must have said that at least three times over the course of the day – whether he meant to put emphasis on it and truly believed in a happy ending for them, or simply forgot that he had already said the exact same thing several times, Daryl couldn’t tell. And it didn’t matter, either. It was soothing to hear those reassuring words.   
Daryl could barely remember the last time he had had a decent job like this and even before the day had ended, he’d come to the conclusion that he _was_ indeed at a crossroads. Regardless of whether or not Rick would return to him, things would change. Daryl didn’t want to live the life he had led anymore. He wanted a home, a place to stay, someone by his side and an occupation that made him proud, gave him the chance to look into the mirror without cringing. 

That night he fell asleep hugging Rick’s pillow tight, after he had breathed in the faint remains of the man’s scent and allowed himself to get lost in dreams again, hope against hope.    
As the days passed the hope grew fainter, as did the scent of Rick’s pillow, but Daryl’s decision remained unaltered.    
He wouldn’t run anymore. Wouldn’t start over time and time again. Maybe Ennis would let him stay, here in this cozy little house by the ocean. It could be a home, with a friend and an honest job. And one day, maybe, there would be someone by his side, too.    
If Daryl could help it, that would be the last mountain left to climb. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Congrats! If you made it to this point the worst is behind you. :-) I know it's been lots of angst, heartaches and conflict and I salute you peeps for braving it out. As of now things will improve and don't forget - happy ending guaranteed. So don't stop now because you've run out of tissues and your fingernails are all gone. LOL


	13. Chapter 13

When Daryl opened his eyes to the sixth day after Rick had left, he was greeted by heavy gray clouds and drizzling rain.  
His heart grew heavier instantly and with an annoyed snort he pulled the covers over his head, unwilling to leave the warm, soft and cozy nest just yet. He dug his nose deep into the pillow he held in his arms, and sighed. It had lost Rick’s smell, was just another pillow, and with a raspy sensation in his throat Daryl couldn’t help wondering how long it would take before the hue of Rick’s eyes would fade from his memory in like ways, along with the shape of his face, the feel of his hands, the sound of his voice. Maybe one day Rick Grimes would be no more than a blurry picture of ‘that dude he ran over one rainy autumn night’ or ‘the guy he fell in love with for the first time in his life’. 

When breathing became difficult underneath the thick covers, he pushed them back and looked into the dark sky. Rain. For the rest of life now rain would probably remind him of Rick. About how he had met the man of his dreams and was stupid enough to let him go.

It hadn’t been raining since that night almost a week ago and Daryl had been distracted by lots of work around the house. The siding was shining in a new, beautiful dark blue now and all the shutters were securely fastened, so no storm stood a chance tearing them off. He would have liked to give the window frames and porch roof and railing a new paint of white today, but apparently that needed to be postponed.  
He wondered if Ennis would just kick him out the day there were no more things to be fixed. And he wondered how he was going to keep his mind off Rick when he didn’t have anything to occupy his time with.  
Daryl sat up and rubbed the sleep as well as the sudden moisture from his eyes. 

         “Rain, ma ass”, he muttered, while he swung his legs out of bed.

It didn’t take rain to be reminded of Rick. The blue of the sky reminded him just as well, every cup of coffee, every piece of apple pie, the baby girl down the street named Andrea, Ennis’ stories about _Jack._ Who was he trying to fool? He was thinking of Rick every minute of the day, no matter how hard he tried not to. And maybe that would never change. 

When he came into the kitchen fifteen minutes later, after he had taken a shower and donned the new set of clothes Rick’s money had bought, Ennis had the coffee ready and was seated at the kitchen table, sipping his first mug.

         “Morning, lad.” 

          “Mornin’”, Daryl cast the man a smile and then made a beeline for the coffee machine. “Looks like I ain’t gonna be able ta work outside today.”

Ennis made a dismissive gesture.

         “Don’t worry about that. ‘s Sunday. Take a day off. Besides, there’s enough to be done inside, too. Work around a house never gets done – soon as you think you’re through, you need to start over again.”

He sighed, peeking at the contents of his mug with great interest for a moment and thus not seeing the smirk Daryl tried to suppress. _Work around a house never gets done._ That was music to his ears – much that it seemed to frustrate the old man, it meant a secure job for Daryl for as long as he wanted it. 

 

With a cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth and his mug of coffee in hand, Daryl stepped out onto the back porch a moment later. He was just about to pull in a deep drag, when he suddenly froze and his eyes widened.  
A lone figure in a sand-colored _Jack Wolfkin_ jacket sat on the top step, unmoving and with wet curls hanging into his face. He looked bleakly out into the gray, unpleasant day and didn’t even turn his head when the door fell shut behind Daryl, didn’t move a muscle or say a single word. Rick just stared ahead of himself.   
Cautiously, not knowing what to expect, Daryl drew closer and then just as quietly lowered himself to the man’s side.   
Neither spoke or dared so much as a side glance for what felt like an eternity. Finally Daryl just held out his coffee to Rick and it was accepted wordlessly, accompanied by a deep, shuddering breath.  
After he had taken a few sips, the younger man handed the mug back, his eyes all the while lingering on the misty ocean. Then he said unexpectedly:

         “Took me two days and about half a dozen different rides to get home. Did you know it’s like fucking three hundred and fifty miles or something?”

         “Three hundred and sixty-eight”, Daryl replied softly. “I kept track when we came here. Was gonna charge ya for gas”, he tried to joke, but it fell flat. 

         “Two days”, Rick picked up with a tired and toneless inflection, “and then I stood in front of my house for one hour straight and couldn’t bring myself to go in. I didn’t know what to do, what to say, what to expect from Shane.”  
He rubbed his hands over his face and then continued:  
         “I was kinda hoping that when he opened the door, it would just be the way it’s always been. And when he did and I looked into his eyes … it was.”

Daryl cast him a frown from the side, while a cold feeling settled in the pit of his stomach. What was it Rick was telling him?  
The younger man visibly struggled to say what he had to say and held his hand out to Daryl in a silent request. When the coffee mug was once again extended his way, Rick shook his head, lifted the smoke from Daryl’s fingers instead and took a deep drag.

         “I had lots of time to think on my way home. Thought about what you said. About him. About me. Our relationship.”

         “Rick”, Daryl started in the intent to apologize for what he had spat in Rick’s face, but before he could even finish his sentence, the other man stood and started walking towards the waterfront.

He didn’t mind the rain and mist, he was just too antsy to sit still a moment longer. There was so much he meant to say to Daryl, so many thoughts and emotions he needed to put in words and didn’t know how.   
Out of the corner of his eyes he noticed that Daryl followed him wordlessly and a moment later had fallen into step beside him. Rick took another drag from the smoke, before he handed it back to Daryl with a thankful nod. 

         “You were right”, he said, looking at the stormy sea. “I guess it’s always been there – the aggression and propensity to violence, the reasons why he and I just weren’t meant for each other. I just never saw it before. Didn’t _want_ to see it.”  
He sighed deeply.  
         “He can be sweet, too, you know. And I loved him so much.”

His voice cracked for a moment, but only seconds later he pulled in a deep breath in order to compose himself.   
Daryl took a drag from the smoke, too, and listened silently. He didn’t know what to say, _if_ he was supposed to say anything at all. Somehow he had the feeling this was one of the moments Rick just needed someone to listen and he was there to do just that.

         “When he opened the door … I expected to see a changed man, thought after everything that happened there’d be a different look in his eyes or tone in his voice. _Anything._ But he was the same as always.”  
Rick’s hands balled to fists.  
         “That’s when I got it – _everything that happened_ was just the way it’s always been, simple as that. It probably started long before you and it’s never gonna stop. I was such an idiot not to see it earlier.”

Silently Daryl reached out a hand and gave Rick’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze. It was a gentle gesture of support and affection, but the younger man flinched and took a step away from him, avoiding the touch.

         “He said he’d understand”, Rick said toneless when he picked up. “Said you were a good lay and that he and I were even now, had both had our fun with you and could start over new without _the little slut_.”

Rick wiped the wet curls out of his forehead and away from the band-aid that covered the healing wound there, and pressed his lips together for a moment. He had heard Daryl pull in a deep breath and couldn’t help wondering, how many times his companion had already heard someone call him a slut – and how close that came to the truth.  
For the first time since he had started his monologue, Rick looked at Daryl and the pain he saw in the shadow blue eyes tugged at his heartstrings.   
The next moment Daryl was pulled into a hug.

         “I’m sorry about what I said to you. I wasn’t any better than Shane and … I’m really sorry, Daryl.”

The older man buried his face on Rick’s shoulder and drew a shuddering breath, while he wrapped his arms tightly around him.

         “You were right”, he croaked. “Both of you.”

There was no sense in denying the truth. Rick had to know who he was, _what_ he was, if they ever meant to have a chance at all. No lies, no secrets, no white-washing any dirty details of his past. 

         “I had sex with lots a’ guys – for money or food or shelter. Or just to not be alone. Ran away from home when I’s sixteen ‘n’ there ain’t too many jobs for a guy, who never learned a decent thing. ‘twas quick money, but …”  
He let go and took a step back, keeping his eyes on the ground, unable to look at Rick.  
         “Ain’t gonna do this no more. But that don’t change what I was, what I did.”

It was quiet between them for a moment, while they stood motionless in front of each other in the drizzling rain. Neither man even noticed how wet they were by now. It didn’t matter.  
Daryl flinched when a hand reached out to him, but then he leaned into it when it cupped his cheek and the thumb ran gentle circles over his cheekbone.

         “What you did”, Rick said softly, “was scraping my _sorry ass_ off the highway, saving my life and telling me the truth. About everything. It was about time someone did that.”  
He leaned in and touched his forehead gently to Daryl’s.  
         “I’m so glad you’re still here. I was afraid you’d be gone.”

         “Ain’t gonna run no more. Ennis ‘s lettin’ me stay, gave me a job. ‘m doin’ repairs ‘round the house ‘n’ stuff. I can do that. ‘m good at fixin’ things, I guess.”

         “Are you?” Rick pulled back and cast him a meaningful glance, accompanied by a teasing smile.

Daryl caught on instantly and once again dropped his gaze.

         “Ain’t good at fixin’ relationships. Don’t know shit ‘bout ‘em.”

         “You really never had one?” Rick asked softly and when Daryl shook his head, he added: “Wanna?” 

 

When they came back into the house, Ennis stood by the doorway and gave them a scrutinizing look from head to toe. They both looked like drowned rats with water dripping out of their hair into the collars and running over their faces, mud sticking to their shoes and their clothes plastered to their bodies.

         “Just so you know”, he said, “there’s no need to run anybody over or get soaking wet around here. You wanna get rid of your clothes, just strip, for crying out loud.”

The comment had both of the younger men grin, while Ennis shook his head to himself and then shuffled to the stove to prepare some tea for the _drowned rats._ Reaching for the kettle, he cast a glance over his shoulder and his heart skipped a beat when he saw Rick and Daryl smile at each other, while they looked deep into the other one’s eyes.

         “Hey, Curly”, Ennis addressed Rick. “Welcome back.”

         “Thanks. I hope it’s okay for both of us to stay a while longer? I’ll pay for the room.”

         “Pff, like hell you will, lad”, the old man waved the comment off. “If my Jack and I … if we’d had a place to live in peace back then, things would have been different.”   
He swallowed thickly, then he straightened up and said firmly:  
         “And now stop dripping on my floor. Go change already.” 

Without replying the two younger men hurried toward their room. Rick was carrying the backpack he had brought, stuffed with clothes and personal items before he had left what used to be _home._  
Ennis watched the looks the two exchanged as they disappeared down the hallway, saw their hands join and fingers being interlaced, noticed how their bodies hovered towards each other and with a grin he took the kettle off the stove.

         “Guess that tea will have to wait”, he muttered to himself, certain not to see the two lovebirds return for at least an hour. 

With a giggle he turned his hearing aids off.

 

When the door had fallen shut behind them, Rick let the backpack slide off his shoulder and just stared at it for a moment.   
An orange backpack stuffed with a few clothes and personal items – that was all what was left of a twenty-year relationship. His entire life had crumbled and the remains lay on the floor in front of his feet now.  
Daryl noticed the change of mood instantly. While Rick had smiled and held his hand only moments ago, he stood frozen next to the few things he had brought now, lost in thought and as pale as a ghost. Daryl knew only too well how it felt – having to leave it all behind and start over new. He had done that countless times. He just never had to leave a life behind, a place that used to be _home_ , someone who had once meant the world. For a moment there he wondered whether he pitied Rick or envied him. 

         “Hey”, Daryl addressed the younger man softly, “ya heard Ennis – stop drippin’ on the floor.” 

He reached for the zipper on Rick’s jacket and opened it slowly and gently, before he pushed the wet piece of clothing off the other man’s shoulders. Then he started unbuttoning the shirt, taking his time and all the while watching Rick’s face as his fingers worked their way down from the collar to the waistband.   
Rick kept his eyes lowered, while he stood quietly and unmoving in front of Daryl. When the older man’s fingers pulled the shirt out of the waistband and started to apply tender touches to the bare skin they had exposed, Rick’s hands closed around Daryl’s wrists and held on.   
When he lifted his head and looked his companion in the eyes, Daryl froze and pressed his lips together.   
Something in Rick’s look said “Stop. I’m not in the mood” and it wasn’t the rejection that hurt Daryl, but the fact that apparently Rick didn’t expect anything else from him than trying to get him laid. It didn’t even seem to cross Rick’s mind that Daryl might only be helping him to shed the wet clothes, might only be trying to comfort him. 

         “Ya ever gonna see somethin’ else in me than a slut?” he asked openly, while he pulled back. 

Rick looked at him in plain shock for a moment, but the tinge of guilt that shone through spoke volumes.

         “Rick”, Daryl picked up, “I can’t change what I was to others. But I wanna be somethin’ entirely different to you. If ya lemme. Jus’ tell me what ya want, what ya need – ‘m here.”  

For a long silent moment the younger man just looked at him, then he let himself be pulled into a hug and buried his face in the crock of Daryl’s neck. He wrapped his arms tightly around him, like a drowning man would hold on to a piece of driftwood, and Daryl understood him without a single word being spoken.

 

The wind had picked up and chased the heavy clouds across the sky, while the light drizzle had turned into a steady curtain of water that pattered on the shingles and cascaded off the porch roof.   
Daryl pulled the covers up higher around him and Rick, as though he had to shelter them from the elements, and pulled the other man closer while his fingers incessantly combed through Rick’s unruly curls.   
His friend snuggled up, his head placed on Daryl’s chest and one arm wrapped around the older man’s middle, and made a sound that came close to a purr.  
         A smile played around Daryl’s lips when he peeked into Rick’s relaxed and drowsy features. He was sure to get a cramp in his lips any moment now, because for the past hour that smile hadn’t faded just once. 

When Rick had pressed close to him and had held onto him crushingly, there was no need for words in order for Daryl to understand what he needed.   
Time. Time to get over the blow and come to terms with the fact that he’s been living a lie, had been betrayed by the one person he had trusted the most.   
Daryl was aware of the fact that Rick wouldn’t trust easily for quite a while and that it would take patience and understanding on his side to just wait till Rick’s heart was ready for a new love.   
He could do that. He had always done that. Give others what they needed, never wondering what it was that _he_ needed or wanted for himself. Only this time he was looking forward to offer all he had to give, because deep down inside he knew, that for once in his life he was gonna get something in return. 

He had continued stripping Rick of his wet clothes with gentle, reassuring and entirely not seductive moves, and when the younger man had stood in front of him, once again butt naked, Daryl had just nodded towards the bed and tucked him in as though he was a little boy. He had quickly shed his own clothes and had crawled under the covers next to Rick – offering, not demanding, expecting or forcing _anything_.   
A moment later Rick had placed his head on his chest and snuggled up, without saying a single word or making any move that would initiate more than _this_. And _this_ was all they had done for the past hour.   
Lying in each other’s arms, caressing tenderly, running their fingers through the other’s hair, kissing gently, hugging tight and indulging in the warmth and closeness of a friend. 

Rick hadn’t felt this good in a long time. Only an hour ago a new wave of depression had washed over him suddenly and had threatened to pull him under. But Daryl … Daryl was familiar with waves, with the ocean, with defying the tides – and he’d known exactly what to do. And what _not_ to do.  
_ This _ was exactly what Rick had longed for, what he had wished for Shane and him to share just once in a while – a lazy Sunday morning in bed with just cuddling and snuggling, dozing off in each other’s embrace, being safe with each other in their secluded little rainbow bubble where no worries and heartaches could reach them. 

While he listened to the strong and steady heartbeat close to his ear, Rick ran his palm gently down Daryl’s side and over his chest.  
          
         “You like this?” he asked softly.

         “Uh-huh”, came the muttered reply while Daryl kept combing his fingers through Rick’s hair. 

He was crazy about those curls.

         “So you’re not into … you know. What Shane liked.”

         “Nah.” 

Rick felt Daryl tense up and lifted his head to look him in the eyes.

         “Then why …?”

He trailed off, but the question was obvious. Why did you let him do this to you? Why did you get involved with him in the first place? Why him of all people?

         “’s like ya said – he can be sweet. Was in the beginnin’. We met in a bar ‘n’ if this ‘s any consolation – _I_ approached _him_ , not the other way round. ‘twas a stormy night, like today. I had no place ta stay ‘n’ I’s alone …”  
He pulled in a deep breath.  
         “Ya know, pickin’ someone up always tided me over.”

Rick didn’t reply. And he didn’t judge, either. Each time Daryl told him a detail of his past, Rick had tried to picture himself in his shoes, tried to imagine living a life like that – and he had shuddered, each and every time. He couldn’t blame Daryl anymore for what had happened. Didn’t see how it was his fault when a married man, who’d made a promise once, broke his vows and didn’t say ‘No’ when he should have. 

         “It wasn’t a one-night stand”, Rick said toneless and Daryl knew it wasn’t a question.   
He couldn’t help sighing.

         “Rick, why do you need to know …?”

         “I just do”, Rick cut in. “As long as there’s missing pieces of the puzzle, I’ll always wonder. So, please, just tell me.”

Daryl sighed again, but then humored Rick. If this was the only way he was gonna find his peace of mind and was able to put Shane behind him, then Daryl would provide the answers he needed. So they could _both_ put Shane behind them.

         “It was at first”, Daryl replied cautiously. “Just a one-night stand. But only few days later we happened to meet again in that bar. I’s stupid enough ta tell him that I didn’t have a home, no job … ya know. He offered ta pay for a motel room, if I’s willin’ to …”

He stopped and pulled in a deep breath, suddenly unable to continue with Rick so close, touching him way more gentle than he should while Daryl revealed these things to him.  
He placed a kiss on the curly head and sat up, turning his back to Rick and trying to still his frantically beating heart. 

         “Ya sure ya wanna hear this?” Daryl croaked.

         “Uh-huh.” 

Rick was _not_ sure, but he had the feeling that he _needed_ to hear this.   
Giving a relenting nod, Daryl said:

         “See ‘em scars on ma back? Ma pa put most a’ ‘em there when I’s little, but ‘m sure one or two was added by yer hubby. He’s into some a’ that BDSM stuff.”  
          
         “Oh, my God.” Rick sat up, too, and rubbed his palms over his face. “He tied and gagged you and stuff?”

         “Sometimes.” Daryl dared cast a glance over his shoulder. “Rick, please, leave it. ‘s all ya need ta know.”

The younger man pressed his lips together to a thin line and nodded, while he tried to understand how he could have been living with someone for so many years without ever realizing what kind of person he was. How could he have been so entirely wrong? Was love really that blind? 

         “I …” his voice broke and he had to breathe in deep before he was able to continue. “I still don’t understand why … why did you let him do this?”

         “’cause … One way or the other, they was _all_ rough on me. I thought it hadda be that way or that I just … just didn’t deserve any better. Never hoped ta ever find someone … someone like you.”

He turned his head and looked Rick in the eyes, and for a long silent moment they held each other’s gaze. 

         “Sometimes”, Rick said softly, “I guess you find just what you need the moment you’re not looking.”

Daryl’s heart skipped a beat when he caught Rick’s meaning. The way the cerulean eyes looked at him left no doubt, that ‘just what you need’ applied to either one of them.   
Daryl had never been needed by anyone, had never meant anything to a single living soul since the day his brother had died.   
His sight blurred all of a sudden and he lowered his eyes quickly, trying to hide the tears. The next moment two arms embraced him from behind and he was pulled flush against Rick’s chest.  

         “Thanks for telling me”, Rick whispered in his ear, before he pressed a kiss to the side of Daryl’s head. “I needed a closure.”

The older man craned his head and cast his friend a questioning glance.

         “Ya gonna have a divorce?”

Rick let go of him abruptly and with a snort got out of bed.

         “You bet I will.”

Agitated he started pacing the room, while Daryl watched him silently.   
Apparently Rick’s mind had found a closure, but his heart was far from it.   
Nobody ever had a choice when it came to falling in love – it just happened, whether they wanted it to or not. And it didn’t work by choice the other way round, either. Even though your mind may tell you that loving someone wasn’t good for you, wasn’t right and that the certain person only meant pain and disappointment, a heart that had been in love for two decades straight wasn’t easily convinced. 

Rick started getting dressed again and with a pang of regret Daryl got up and did likewise.   
He wouldn’t have minded staying in bed cuddling for the rest of the day – at least. He felt like he had a lifetime of catching up to do and his thirst for tenderness and closeness wasn’t stilled in the least, but – and that thought had a smile tug on the corners of his mouth – Rick was going to stay. He’d be here tonight and tomorrow and the day after. There would be more cuddling. Hopefully for a long, long time. 

The younger man had put his pants back on and was just about to pull a t-shirt over his head, when Daryl approaching him and stopping close in front of him had him freeze.   
Daryl reached out and softly touched the scar on Rick’s shoulder.

         “Told ya ‘bout mine”, he said, not taking his eyes off the mark on the other man’s skin, “wanna tell me ‘bout yers?”

Rick hesitated only a second, then he said straight out:

         “I was shot.”

Daryl’s eyes flicked up.

         “What?”

         “Happened in the line of duty”, the younger man explained, while his face became a stony façade. “Shane wasn’t just my partner in life, he was my partner on the force, too.” 

Daryl grew pale.

         “Yer a cop, too?” 

The shocked inflection had a smirk tug on Rick’s lips.

         “Yeah, but I’m still on sick leave. And don’t worry about the fifty bucks – I’ll let you off the hook with a verbal warning, Mr. Dixon.” 

He had meant to lightened the suddenly tense mood, but although the ghost of a smile appeared on Daryl’s face for a moment, it never reached his eyes. The older man placed his palm flat on the spot where a bullet had hit his friend, and the protective gesture touched Rick deeply. 

         “’twas close”, Daryl croaked after a moment, leaving his hand where he could feel the other man’s heartbeat.

         “Yeah, I guess.”

         “How long ago since that happened?”

         “Half a year”, Rick said with an icy inflection peppering his voice suddenly. 

Daryl froze and when he looked up with a shocked expression, Rick knew that he had caught on. 

         “Yes”, he nodded, angry lines contorting his handsome features. “When I talked to my asshole of a husband the other day he … he kept repeating that we were gonna start over new, that this _fling_ had never meant a thing. He actually dared use the words _I love you_ , the bastard. But I remember you told me that this allegedly so meaningless fling had been going on for months, right?”

Daryl swallowed thickly and nodded.

         “Months”, Rick repeated with a bitter inflection. “While I was in the hospital, fighting for my life, my dearly beloved husband didn’t have anything better to do than getting his dick wet.”  
His voice was thick with emotions, while his hands balled to fists.  
         “That’s how worried he was, how much he cared. And when I got it – that was the final straw. He kept trying to make himself look better by putting you down, calling you names, but you were right – he’s a dumbass.”

He lifted his right fist and looked at it for a second before adding:  
          
         “I gave him your regards, by the way. Hope you don’t mind.”

When Daryl caught his meaning, a grin flashed over his face, but it didn’t last.   
There was too much pain in Rick’s eyes to enjoy this act of retaliation. And although Daryl hadn’t really expected anything else, it still hurt him to learn that in all these months Shane apparently hadn’t cared about him one single bit.   
Meaningless. Worthless. 

         “I need you to help me forget Shane”, Rick’s words tore him out of his dark thoughts. 

He wrapped his arms around Daryl’s waist and pulled him close, pressing against him clearly in the need to be hugged and Daryl closed his arms around him instantly. 

         “Ditto”, he whispered into Rick’s ear. “I wanna forget _all_ a’ ‘em.” 

They just held each other for a long moment, then Daryl sighed and said:

         “Ain’t gonna happen, right? Just forgettin’.”

         “Guess not”, Rick agreed, not letting go, “but we can make some new memories. Better ones. A thick layer of them to cover all the old shit till it doesn’t hurt anymore.”  

Daryl pulled back a little and this time a genuine smile spread over his face.

            “Sounds like a plan.”  


	14. Chapter 14

When they came into the kitchen, Ennis sat at the breakfast table and was preparing sandwiches for lunch. As soon as he noticed them standing in the doorway, he turned the hearing aids back on with a meaningful smile, but the somewhat strained expressions on their faces had it crumble. 

They didn’t look like two newly enamored lovebirds, who just spent an hour rolling in the hay. But they stood close, their shoulders and hands touching, and although the mood wasn’t light there was no tension between them. Whatever mountain they still had to climb, they obviously planned on doing it together. That was a start. 

         “Tea should be done by now”, Ennis commented dryly and that brought the smiles back to the two younger faces.

         “Yeah, sorry”, Daryl replied, “gettin’ dry took a li’l while there.” 

         “You’re still wet behind your ears though, if you think you need to dish out any excuses. I know what you’ve been doing.” 

         “I doubt that”, Rick said flatly, but the scrutinizing look the old man cast him had him fall quiet. 

         “It’s not always about _that_ ”, Ennis said chidingly. “There is so much more to being lovers, being friends, being soul mates. You give and you take and that should be mutual. Sometimes what you need is sex, yes. And other times it’s a hug, a single kiss or just being _there_ to listen. That’s just as important.”

He looked at Rick calmly and when the younger man just nodded his agreement, a smile spread over the old, wrinkled face. 

         “Very well then, tea time”, Ennis announced and invitingly pointed at the two chairs opposite him. 

After they had enjoyed their lunch, Rick and Daryl kept the old man company for the rest of the afternoon, which turned out to be more complicated than expected. 

The simple idea of watching some TV culminated in a fifteen-minute debate whether _Hawaii 5-0_ or _Navy CIS_ was the better show – or rather, whether Steve McGarrett or Tony Dinozzo was cuter. Rick was wise enough to go for indifference and leave the discussion to the other two, and since it seemed to be a draw as far as Steve and Tony were concerned, Ennis and Daryl played rock-paper-scissors to bring about a decision. In the end they watched _both_ shows, one after the other, which made the two squabblers happy, while Rick dozed off with his head on Daryl’s shoulder half way into the first episode. 

When both films were through, Ennis and Daryl closed their new debate about which show had the better title music with a clear standoff and welcomed Rick’s suggestion to forget about TV and rather play a round of gin rummy. 

Rick was well aware of the fact that his friend needed this time with the old man – maybe because Daryl felt he had to repay Ennis for his hospitality, his friendship and the honest job. And maybe because he knew how it felt to be lonely. 

While both was in fact right on, the main reason Daryl had initiated the leisure-time activity with Ennis was to distract Rick, get his mind off Shane for a while , before the night would bring along too many hours of silence and time for pondering.

         “Gin!”

Rick tossed the King of Hearts on the discard pile and placed his hand onto the table with a wide grin. Daryl leaned forward and took a look at the cards that were sitting in front of Rick and a wide smile spread over his face.

         “Ya drew the joker last, huh?”

         “Yup”, Rick admitted, still grinning. “Best card there is. Can’t lose with it.” 

Daryl didn’t reply to that. He just felt a wave of pure happiness wash over him all of a sudden and smiled even wider. Rick had tossed the King of Hearts and had won this game – with the help of the joker. _Best card there is._

Daryl still remembered how he had compared himself to the joker, had figured that nobody would ever see _anything_ in him, because he didn’t have a suit or a value of his own, just changed according to the situation. 

Maybe he had turned into what Rick wanted him to be, _needed_ him to be. And that didn’t make him _nothing,_ it made him _everything_ – at least to Rick. And that was exactly what Daryl wanted to be. The man by Rick’s side – that’s who he was, that was his suit and value, the way to win in this game.

He looked deep into the sky blue eyes of the younger man and the smile turned into a grin, while his pulse accelerated.

         _“Nah, best card there is, is the_ Jack _of Hearts, Rick Grimes.”_

After dinner Ennis stretched his back with a moan and excused himself, announcing to turn in early that day. Whether he really was tired or just didn’t want for them to feel obliged to keep him company any longer, they couldn’t tell. And they didn’t question it, either.

They were grateful for the privacy and time to work things out. Distraction was a good way to smooth ruffled feelings for a while, but that was merely a way of pushing problems into the background – it didn’t make them dissolve. 

The rain had stopped and here and there even a few stars were peeking through the dark shreds of clouds. The wind had eased and after not having a single smoke since the one that morning, Daryl was in dire need for one.  

         “Care for a walk along the beach?”

Standing shoulder to shoulder at the waterfront, Rick looked silently out over the black waters of the ocean, while Daryl enjoyed his smoke, secretly casting his companion a side glance now and then. 

He offered his smoke to the younger man, but with a single shake of his head Rick declined. 

          “I don’t get it”, he said instead. “Don’t know why he ever married me, why he wanted to start over, if I wasn’t what he wanted.”

Daryl tossed the butt of his cigarette into the oncoming waves and ran a hand through his hair to push the long bangs out of his face. 

There was so much emotional baggage for Rick to carry, so many questions he might never get the answer to and once more Daryl heard his father’s voice in the back of his mind.

_ “Damn emotional ties. Ain’t nothin’ but trouble.” _

__

_          “Yes, but the best kind of trouble you can possibly be in,”  _ the blonde girl replied happily, nipping any doubts in the bud. 

She was right. Maybe it would be Daryl standing here one day wondering why things went wrong, crying over a lost love and suffering a broken heart.

And then again, maybe he would be standing here one far off day and still be happy, still have this wonderful man by his side, knowing that taking the chances was totally worth it. 

Nothing ventured, nothing gained and Daryl was totally willing to risk the trouble emotional ties might entail. 

“I can’t tell ya that”, Daryl replied, while he slipped his hand into Rick’s, “and I don’t wanna guess, either. Yer gonna have ta ask him, if ya need ta know. But I can tell ya why _I_ want ya …”

“Don’t.” Rick stopped him, still staring out onto the ocean. “Whatever you wanna say now, please, don’t. Not yet. I’m not gonna make any promises anymore – at least not for some time. And it may take a while, you know … till I’m ready to dare love somebody again.”

His inflection was bitter, strained, but not without hope. He still held Daryl’s hand in his and unexpectedly he turned around and pulled Daryl close.

         “Sorry”, he croaked.

         “Don’t be.” The older man hugged him tight and ran his hands soothingly over Rick’s back. “’s actually nice.”

         “What is?”

         “Havin’ the time to, ya know, have a relationship develop. All ma life I’s always on the run, everythin’ was always quick, in a hurry … shallow. So, slow‘s nice for a change.”

A warm feeling spread through Rick’s body, starting in the pit of his stomach and from there reaching into every fiber of his being, making him feel at ease and content in this man’s arms. He noticed how his heart had picked up its pace and a smile tugged on his lips. Maybe it wouldn’t even take as long as he expected till he was able to love again.  

         “Thank you”, he whispered into Daryl’s ear. “For saving my life – in more than one respect.”

It was quiet for a moment, then Daryl said straight out:

“Ma car’s stolen.”

“What?”

Rick pulled back totally flabbergasted. 

“The car – it’s stolen. Took it from the parkin’ lot a’ some shabby used car business years ago. Got a bunch a’ license plates in the trunk – they’s stolen, too. I change plates each time I cross the state line. Draws less attention.” 

The younger man looked at his companion as though Daryl had just grown a second head.

“Why”, Rick stammered, “why are you telling me this now?”

“‘cause ya had a relationship with a jackass, who kept things from ya. Can’t expect ya ta ever trust me, if I ’s li’l better. So ya need ta know everythin’ ‘bout me. Anythin’ that could possibly become a problem one day. So, no lies ‘n’ no secrets.”

Just when Rick started to slowly nod his understanding, he added:

         “Ain’t got no driver’s license, either. Taught maself, but never took a test or nothin’. Never had no money for it.”

Rick’s mouth gaped open and he held his breath, waiting, and dreading what more there was to be revealed. When Daryl didn’t say anymore, he let his breath out with an audible puff and said:

         “That’s it? No dead body in that trunk next to the stolen license plates and the six pack?”

Daryl started chuckling despite himself. 

         “Nope. Not the last time I looked.” 

         “Oh good, then it’s half as bad as I thought.” 

He shook his head to himself and then stood silently in front of his friend, looking him in the eyes as far as that was possible in the little light the decrescent moon provided. 

Unexpectedly he broke out laughing.

         “I don’t believe this”, he chuckled. “I’m a fucking cop and you’ve been driving around with me in a stolen car with stolen license plates and you don’t even have a permit?” 

Daryl smirked at him.

         “Yup. Oh, and one a’ ‘em taillights ‘s broken.” 

Rick laughed even harder now and wasn’t able to compose himself for quite a while. In between gasping for air he said:

         “I’m gonna write you hell of a ticket, Dixon – soon as I give a damn.” 

When he had finally sobered up again, his heart was lighter and he felt much better after the laughing had made some of the tension dissolve. He placed one arm around Daryl’s shoulders and pulled him close, leaning his head against his companion’s, so his curls mixed with the long, straight strands.

They stood silently like that for a while, then Rick said:

         “You know, I really can’t bring myself to give a damn about the car being stolen. I don’t even know if I still wanna be a cop or not. Can’t go back to working with Shane … actually, I don’t wanna go back at all.”

         “What is it ya wanna do then?” Daryl asked cautiously.

         “I still wanna see the sun set over the ocean”, Rick replied thoughtfully. “I think I’m gonna have my car repaired and then …”

Daryl felt a cold feeling settling in the pit of his stomach and he barely dared ask, but he had to know.

         “Yer thinkin’ ‘bout leavin’?”

Rick nodded.

         “I’ve been stuck in the same place all my life and just need to see a little bit of the world out there now. Need to find myself and figure out what I want, what I’m gonna do. All my adult life I’ve had Shane there with me – I’ve never been on my own.”  

Daryl felt a terrible stinging sensation in his eyes suddenly. He gave the younger man a short, hearty hug and then let go and took a step away from him. Staring out onto the waves, he croaked:

         “Ya gonna come back?” 

         “Don’t know”, Rick answered honestly. 

They were both silent for a moment, then the younger man added:

“You’ve seen the sun set over the ocean, right?”

“Yeah”, Daryl said in a choked voice. “Several times.”

         “The sucker goes down in the west, huh?”

The ghost of a smile flashed over Daryl’s sad face despite himself.

         “Yup, unless there was any last minute changes I don’t know ‘bout.”

Rick shrugged.

         “Then I guess that’s where I’m gonna go. – What else is out there?”

         “Mountains, plains ‘n’ woods”, Daryl started summing up with a heart as heavy as lead, “canyons, deserts, rivers, small towns, large cities, endless highways, the open sky …”

         “You’ve seen all that?” Rick cut in.

         “Yeah.”

Unexpectedly he was being pulled into a tight embrace from behind while Rick whispered in his ear:

         “Wanna see it again? – With me?” 

With his heart skipping a beat, Daryl turned around in Rick’s embrace and kissed him so ardently that they almost fell over backwards. He pulled him close as though he meant to crawl into him, unaware of the tear of relief that ran over his cheek. 

When the younger man finally broke the contact in the need to breathe, he chuckled:

         “I’ll take that as a ‘yes’”. 

         “Fuck, yeah, ya bet it’s a ‘yes’.” 

         “Okay”, Rick said softly while he gave the other man’s cheek a gentle stroke with the back of his hand, “you just got yourself a ride west. But _I’m_ driving.”

Chuckling they interlaced their fingers and hand in hand started walking back to the house. Suddenly Rick stopped dead in his tracks and said:

         “Wait. I forgot something.” 

He turned around and headed back to the waterfront, where he stood for a moment, motionless and with an achingly pounding heart. Then he abruptly pulled the wedding ring off his finger and with one forceful motion tossed it out into the ocean. 

_**Epilogue**_

The huge red fireball slowly descended toward the horizon and seemed to dip into the water a moment later, setting the ocean on fire and coloring the sky in all hues of red, orange and yellow. 

Standing shoulder to shoulder with Daryl, Rick let out his breath with a deep sigh, while he squeezed his friend’s hand.

         “That’s amazing.”  

Daryl cast him a loving side glance and smiled.

         “Yeah, it is.

The younger man returned the smile when he caught on, but didn’t reply. He just turned to gently peck Daryl’s lips and then asked:

         “So, what are we gonna do now?”

         “Huh, ’s been a couple a’ weeks ‘n’ Ennis’s waitin’. So, turn ‘round ‘n’ go home?”

He was stunned for a moment when he realized that he had referred to the little house by the sea as _home –_ and he really felt that way about it, too. 

He had long since stopped fooling himself – he was in love with Rick, simple as that. Felt stronger for that man than he ever thought possible and he would never give up the hope that one day his feelings would be reciprocated. 

And he loved that old man, too. Ennis was a gentle, wise and caring soul and pretty much the father Daryl had never had. 

Living in that little cozy house by the ocean with Rick and Ennis, finally having a home, _arriving_ after a seemingly endless journey – that was the one thing he wanted and he could barely wait. 

“I don’t mind that”, Rick ended his train of thought. “I’ve seen the sun set over the ocean now, and the mountains and deserts and plains … and the whole rest of the stuff and things you mentioned. Going _home_ sounds good to me, too, now.”  

With their arms around each other’s waist they started strolling along the deserted early winter beach, when Daryl started chuckling suddenly.

“Just came ta realize that the best thing I ever done in all ma life was runnin’ ya over, _Jack_.”

He nudged Rick’s shoulder and then took off, laughing. He kept running through the wet sand, with Rick in fierce pursuit, and for a moment felt as though he could fly. 

He was happy, really happy for the first time in his life. There were people who cared about him and a place he belonged – and even though ‘Jack’ was an entirely silly pet name, it still was just that, a pet name. Rick was the one he woke up next to every morning now, the one in whose arms he fell asleep, simply his _one_. 

The next moment he was tackled mercilessly and dragged down onto the sand, where they both ended up in an entangled heap of arms and legs, giggling like little schoolboys.

Rick leaned over him and looked into the shadow blue eyes with an incredible joy washing over him all of a sudden. Daryl held his look and reached out a hand to tenderly push a stray curl out of Rick’s forehead. 

         “You really like Jack better than Rick, huh?” the younger man asked softly, while he mirrored the gentle gesture and let his fingers run through Daryl’s hair.

         “When ya was Jack”, Daryl explained, “that night ya was unconscious after the accident, I … I sorta pictured ya to be mine. Just for a while I wanted ta have someone. Ya know, someone who’s able ta love me.”

Rick looked him deep into the eyes, while a smile played around his lips. 

         “And you had to run me over for that?”

         “Whatever it takes”, Daryl teased.

         “Sounds like we had a pretty rough start. Let’s do this again, huh?”

Daryl suppressed a smirk and tried to put on a solemn expression.

         “Hey. Nice ta meet ya. I’m Daryl. Daryl Dixon.”

         “Rick Grimes”, the younger man replied with his face only inches away from Daryl’s. “But you can call me Jack.”

The next moment his lips connected with Daryl’s as he kissed him tenderly,  while the red ball of the setting sun disappeared into the endless ocean. 


	15. Art Work

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The wonderful PixieReedus just gave me permission to post this lovely manip here, since it matches the story so perfectly.   
> I totally love it, dear!!

[](http://de.tinypic.com?ref=keu23m)

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks a lot for a whole bunch of intriguing comments I got here and in private, as well as all the kudos.  
> It seems to have stirred lots of conflicting emotions in quite a few readers, so I'd appreciate your honest opinion. Drop me a line. And thanks for sticking with it till the end, no matter what. :-)
> 
> Btw, I'm accepting comments from guest readers as well, so everyone who'd like to share their thoughts is welcome to!


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